


A Life Long Wait for a Hospital Stay

by Masterless



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychiatric Ward, Hospitalization, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illnesses, Trigger Warning: Vomit, Y'all know that Lucas and Eliott are gonna end up together, just wait, trigger warning: anorexia and bulimia, trigger warning: blood mention, trigger warning: drug mention, trigger warning: sexual harassment mention, trigger warning: suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2020-01-06 13:51:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 32,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masterless/pseuds/Masterless
Summary: The room started to spin.“A ward?”“It’s… it’s for the best,” his father tried, squeezing his forearm with a warm hand.Eliott nodded numbly. “How long?”They were quiet again.“How long?” he repeated, his voice stronger.“Eleven weeks,” his mother said quietly. “You’ll stay for eleven weeks.”





	1. Week 0

Eliott could feel the alcohol in his veins, the buzz in his limbs. It was almost pleasant. He felt cold, the sweat on his body chilling him, the slow thumping of his heart a steady rhythm in his chest. He stared up at the spray paint on the concrete above him, smiling softly in his happy place, the bottle of pills tipped over next to time, almost empty now. The bottle of vodka he’d bought on the way over was held steady in his hand, the taste of it barely noticeable on his tongue. He wished, he wished, he wished.

He couldn’t remember anymore. He couldn’t remember what he wished, as his eyes slipped closed and he slumped over sideways. He couldn’t remember.

 

*

 

Eliott woke up in the ambulance with a gasp, air flooding his chest and making him cough violently against the mask that was strapped to his face. The paramedics leaned away from him, one of them setting down a hand pump for the oxygen they’d been forcing into his lungs. His whole body felt like it was on fire and he started to cry, trying to curl up on himself. 

“Hey,” one of them said, a man, a gentle hand going to his hair. “You have to lay still, okay? You have to keep still. Can you do that for me?”

Eliott just sobbed, feeling the hand on his head start to stroke his hair, drawing in some sort of comfort.

“What’s your name?” he asked, trying another route. “I’m Rupert.”

“El-Eliott,” he whispered.

“Eliott? It’s nice to meet you Eliott. We’re almost at the hospital, okay?” Rupert looked over at the other paramedic, who nodded. “Could you tell us your last name, Eliott?”

“Demaury.”

 

*

 

Eliott came to again in a bed in a hospital gown, an IV drip in his arm. His mother and father were in the seats on either side of his bed, his mother looking like she’d been crying for hours, his father asleep with his head tipped back and his mouth wide open. He looked back to his mother in time to see her head dip down quickly, obviously falling asleep, too.

“Mama,” Eliott whispered, not really wanting to wake her up, but still wanting her eyes on him and her arms around him.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide and filling with tears as soon as she saw him. “Eliott,” she whispered, watching him for a second before he, too, started to cry, and she stood and wrapped her arms around him, crawling into the bed and pulling her baby close. “Oh, Eliott, my sweet, sweet, Eliott.” She kissed the crown of his head, pressing her cheek there and pulling him even closer. “My boy.”

“W’as goin’ on?” Eliott looked over at his father, who was rubbing a hand over his tired face, blinking at them a few times before realising what was happening. He stood and threw his arms around his wife and son, tightening his hold on them, never wanting to let go. “Eliott, oh Eliott.” He kissed his son’s forehead and his wife on the lips, tears streaming down his face.

When they pulled away from him, Eliott was warmly cocooned between his parents, both of them laying in the bed with him, not wanting to let him go again. Eliott felt small, but in a safe way, in a protected way, a child between his parents, even though he was taller than his mother and could out lift his dad on any given day. They rested their heads on his, breathing in the same air, wanting to be close.

“Where’s Delphine?” Eliott asked, looking around for his younger sister.

“She’s staying with my sister,” his mother replied, rubbing a comforting hand over his shoulder. “Do you want to see her?”

“Oui.” Eliott swallowed against his dry throat, twitching his nose against the cannula there. “Why am I all hooked up like this?”

“You don’t remember?” his dad asked, pulling away slightly. “Eliott?”

“I remember the bridge and… drinking, but after that it’s kind of a blur.”

With a sigh, his mother started to straighten his hair, the way she always does when she’s nervous to tell him something. “They found you under the bridge. You had taken an overdose of painkillers, your grandmama’s. Do you remember?”

He nodded, not able to look her in the eye.

“They brought you here.” His father tapped his chin gently to get him to meet and hold his gaze. “They had to pump your stomach. You were dehydrated, so they gave you some fluids, and they put the cannula there as a precaution because it looked like you weren’t getting enough oxygen at first.”

Eliott nodded again, looking down to his hands, fiddling with the heart monitor on his finger. “How long am I staying?” There was a long, awkward silence. He looked up at his mother and then to his father, who were both looking at each other over his head. “Mama?”

She smiled at him, a watery smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh, Eliott.” She pulled him close again, his head resting on her chest. “The doctor said… he said that he wants you to stay for an evaluation. A psychiatric evaluation, in the teenage ward a few floors up.”

The room started to spin.

“A ward?”

“It’s… it’s for the best,” his father tried, squeezing his forearm with a warm hand. “Eliott, you did… you did try to kill yourself.”

Eliott nodded numbly. “How long?”

They were quiet again.

“How long?” he repeated, his voice stronger.

“Eleven weeks,” his mother said quietly. “You’ll stay for eleven weeks.”


	2. Week 1

“And this,” the nurse said with a smile, leading him into a sparsely furnished room, “is your room!” She moved inside to let in pass. “Why don’t you set your things down on the bed, I’ll walk you over to group.”

Eliott sighed to himself and put his things down, glancing at the walls, painted an unappealing shade of green. It looked more like grey than green, but Eliott could pick out the faint tinge of colour behind the depressing overtone. Eliott was quiet as he left the room, looking around at the other doors in the hallway. They all looked like his; painted a deep maroon, with a small rectangular window at face height, each window inter laid with a thin metal mesh. One door was open, and, peeking in, Eliott saw a pristine and clean room, the bed made, the shoes neatly laid out at the foot of the bed. It looked more like a hotel room than the room Eliott was in, but maybe the other person had been here longer.

“You’re in luck!” the nurse said, smiling again. It was starting to get annoying, her smile. How could one person be that happy? When he didn’t respond, she continued. “There are four other boys in the ward right now, each of them only coming in within the last week. You’ll have some friends here! There are also some girls here, but,” and now she turned serious, “relationships between patients are highly discouraged, and it can be terms for dismissal.”

Eliott shrugged. “I have a girlfriend.” Lucille. She hadn’t come to visit him in the three days he was in the hospital. The doctors wanted to make sure he had everything out of his system before they sent him up here. “I think.”

The nurse smiled pityingly up at him, patting his arm limply. She knocked gently on a door painted lavender. A voice called out behind it, and she opened the door, revealing a group of teenagers, most of them around Eliott’s age. They were all looking at him, all but one, who was looking at another guy in the circle. 

“Ah!” There was also an older man in the circle, wearing a white coat and a tie. He smiled at Eliott as he took a step into the room. “You must be Eliott!”

When Eliott nodded, the man smiled even bigger.

“Very good! Why don’t you take a seat there, hmm? Next to Lucas.”

Eliott followed to where the man was pointing, and hooked eyes with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

 

*

 

Eliott didn’t do much in group, just following each person with his eyes as they spoke, trying to remember names and reasons, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting back to Lucas.

Lucas. He was the most handsome person that Eliott had ever seen, and Eliott could go on for days about his looks. His voice was beautiful, lilting from his mouth in honeysuckle words that Eliott wanted to catch and eat. He was bundled up in a grey sweatshirt with the word “Romance” across the chest and thick, black sweatpants. He was looking at Eliott with clear blue eyes and a gentle smile.

He was looking at Eliott.

Eliott looked around the circle, finding everyone’s eyes on him, and he felt a blush raise to his cheeks. The doctor smiled again, a kind laugh in his eyes.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself?” he repeated.

“Um.” Eliott swallowed thickly. “Salut. My name is Eliott.”

“Salut, Eliott,” the others chorused, some sounding more enthusiastic than others.

Eliott looked around them with an awkward smile on his face, greeted with smiles similar to his own.

“Is there anything you’d like us to know about you?” the doctor asked.

Eliott shrugged. “I like to paint.”

“Very nice.” The doctor looked down at his watch and nodded, smiling up at the group once more as he stood. “It looks like that’s all for today, I hope you all have a great lunch.” He watched as they all stood and started to file out of the room, but he stopped Eliott just as he was about to leave. “Eliott! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Quinn. Shall we go to my office?”

Eliott had no choice but to follow Dr. Quinn back through the hallways and into a small, plushly furnished office. He had diplomas hung on the walls, paintings of birds and one of a dog, and a fair few photos. Dr. Quinn’s wife and kids were prominent in all of them. Eliott sat down in the offered armchair, watching Dr. Quinn sit and pull a notepad towards him.

“Okay, Eliott,” he said with another goddamn smile. “Why don’t we start with th easy stuff? Can you tell me your full name and how old you are?”

“My name is Eliott Demaury. I’m 17.”

“How long is it until your 18th birthday?”

“Seven months.”

“Merci.” Dr. Quinn scribbled something down. “How are you feeling today?”

Eliott shrugged. “Alright. Better than yesterday.” He actually felt pretty good. His thoughts weren’t racing like they had been the on the night under the bridge, but he didn’t feel as utterly sad as he had the past few days. “Kind of… midground.”

Dr. Quinn nodded. “That’ll be the meds you were given this morning. They’re a sedative, and you’ll be getting them for another few days. It’s just to get you in the ward and settled without feeling overwhelmed. The other patients call them the ‘happy pills’. I call it diazepam.” He scribbled something more before looking back up to Eliott. “Would you mind telling me about the night you were brought in? The night you took an overdose?”

Eliott sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “There’s not much to tell. I stole my grandmama’s pain pills and bought a bottle of vodka.”

“You went somewhere you thought no one would find you.”

He nodded. “I still don’t know how my parents knew where to find me.” The scratching of Dr. Quinn’s pen was starting to annoy him. “I didn’t want to be found.”

“Why did you want to die?”

Another shrug. 

There was a pause, and Dr. Quinn sighed. “Okay, Eliott. Why don’t you go to lunch?”

Eliott was up and out of the office almost as soon as the doctor had finished talking, stalking away. He felt irritable now. Well, he’d felt close to irritable all day, and he guessed now it was just surfacing. He followed the smell of frying food to the dining room, stepping in with a slight hesitation in his step. Everyone had already chosen their seats, the boys at one table, the girls at another, with only Chloé sitting on her own. She wasn’t eating, just staring longingly at Lucas.  _ Same, girl _ , Eliott thought before shaking his head and walking to the small window where they were served. They had an assortment of food including a salon salad, chicken and courgette in some kind of vinaigrette, some bread, and even pie.

“What can I get you?” the lady behind the counter asked. “I’m afraid this is all we have left. The others took all the pasta and potatoes.”

Eliott shrugged, thinking that he had to stop doing that. “The chicken looks good. And some bread, please.”

She gently placed his food onto his tray and gave him a slice of pie with a wink. “It’s tough being here, we know that. Have something sweet.”

He smiled politely and walked away, sitting alone at the only empty table. He was picking at his chicken disinterestedly when a tray was placed on the table in front of him and someone sat across from him.

“Salut.” Eliott looked up at Lucas, blushing slightly. When he didn’t answer, Lucas smiled and picked up his fork. “So. New here, huh?”

“What gave it away?” Eliott asked.

“The whole, not seeing your face before thing.” Lucas smiled, his eyebrows raised, his expression slightly cocky. “What got you locked up with the crazies?”

Eliott frowned. “Don’t call me crazy.”

“I wasn’t calling you crazy.” Lucas pointed a finger conspiratorially to the orderlies around the room, the doctor sat with a patient. “They’re the crazies. We’re just their prisoners.”

Nodding, though still a little confused, Eliott glanced around the room before looking back at Lucas. “Why do you want to know?”

“It’s fun to know people’s stories. I can tell you about almost everyone in this room.”

“Yeah? You know them that well?”

Lucas shrugged. “We all go to school together.” He snorted, looking down at his food and stabbing a slice of courgette. Bringing it up to eye level and checking it over with an unimpressed gaze, he placed it into his mouth and chewed, using his fork to point in the general direction of the others. “We were all so stuck in our own heads that we didn’t realize something was going on with the others.”

“What’s up with the guy in the glasses?” Eliott asked, listening to him swear loudly across the room. “I thought tourettes wasn’t a mental illness?”

“Oh, it’s not.” Lucas looked over, too. “Arthur goes into dissociative states and commits atrocities.”

With wide eyes, Eliott leaned in and whispered, “Really?”

“Non,” Lucas snorted. “His parents paid the hospital a lot of money to take him in and try to get him to figure out his ticks. Dr. Quinn doesn’t like it that he’s here, but he likes Arthur. We all like Arthur.”

Eliott stared at Lucas, his bright blue eyes, his cheekbones. He was beautiful. When he brought up his hand to brush away a loose strand of hair, Eliott noticed the edge of a thick, white bandage peeking out from under his hoodie sleeve.

“What happened?” he asked softly, reaching out with gentle fingers to caress the skin above the gauze.

“Oh, the normal sob story.” Lucas shrugged, a wall sliding into place behind his eyes. “ Mon père hit me,  ma mère never loved me, something like that.” 

“Lucas…”

“I tried to kill myself.”

Eliott held out his hand, palm up, and was surprised when Lucas put his hand over it. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Lucas snorted, letting his fingers slide over Eliott’s palm. “I heard that you did, too.”

With a nod, Eliott saw Lucas swallow. “I took pills, though.”

“Wish I’d thought of that.” Lucas chuckled humourlessly. “It wouldn’t have hurt as much.”

“It did hurt,” Eliott said. “When I woke up on the way to the hospital… all I can remember is how much pain I was in. Like a full body cramp.”

Lucas looked at him, his fingers curling into Eliott’s. “Why did you want to do it?”

Eliott couldn’t hold his gaze. “Oh, you know.” He smiled, in-genuine and tired. “Mon père hit me, ma mère never loved me.” He looked up again. “Something like that.”

“D’accord,” Lucas said quietly. “A conversation for another time.”

“Tell me about the rest of them.”

Lucas nodded, looking behind him. “Yann and I have been friends since we were little. He’s depressed. He and his last girlfriend broke up pretty messily, with no help from yours truly.” He smiled self consciously. “I used to have a big crush on Yann, and I did have a part in their break up, but… it hit him pretty hard. I apologized every day for maybe a month after it happened until he punched me, and then it was like nothing happened. We went back to being best friends.” Eliott whistled softly. “You already know about Arthur, and that leaves-”

One of the boys, the only one that Eliott didn’t know, screamed when Arthur ticked and spit his food out at him. The boy jumped up, furiously rubbing his hands over his hair and his food. “That’s disgusting! Arthur!”

“Je suis désolé!” Arthur said, looking close to tears, standing to try to help, but the boy was already running out of the room. He stopped and pulled open the door and shut it, repeating the process three more times before finally storming out into the hall.

“Basile.” Lucas sighed. “He and Arthur have been friends since they were kids, and Yann and I became friends with them a few years ago. Arthur has always ticked pretty back, but Basile got bad only within the past year. He has OCD. My favourite of his compulsions,” Lucas said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “is his need to flip the lights off and on again before finally turning them off and going to bed. His room is across from mine, so I see the light through my window.”

Eliott nodded. “The really clean room?”

“Oui.” Lucas pointed over the the group of girls who were all giggling. “Mannon. She has some kind of anxiety disorder. She has to be the best at everything. School, baking, cleaning, cooking. Everything. She had a full blown break down in the middle of school once, crying and screaming.” His voice dropped, growing serious. “It was awful to watch.” He pointed to another brunette. “Emma. She’s got a dissociative disorder. She does go into dissociative states, but she doesn’t have alternate personalities, so that’s why she wasn’t diagnosed with DID. She is also, I might add, Yann’s ex.”

Looking back to the other boy, Eliott frowned. “The one you caused the break up with?”

Lucas nodded. “It was a bit messy when Yann was admitted, apparently. She didn’t react very well. But they seem to be doing better now.” As he said this, Emma flipped Yann off, who replied in kind. “I think.” He pointed to the blonde girl with the other two. “Daphné. She eats her food and then makes herself throw up.” Lucas looked down at his fork and speared another courgette coin. “And with this food, I can understand why.”

“What about the other girl?” Eliott asked, nodding to the girl who was sat all alone.

“Chloé?” When Eliott nodded, Lucas shrugged. “I don’t know. She came in three days ago, she hasn’t spoken to anyone, but she does keep staring at me.”

“She is definitely staring at you.” Eliott looked down at their still clasped hands. “And I think she might be glaring at me.”

Lucas snorted. “Let her glare. I got my hands on a handsome mec, I’m not letting him go.”

Eliott felt a thrill of pleasure tangle up his spine. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Very.” Lucas smiled at him. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

A split second decision Eliott would later regret. “No.”


	3. Week 2

Eliott was taken off the diazepam on a saturday, the last day of his first week in the ward. He stared up at the ceiling the next day, a heavy weight on his chest. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, his throat itched, his insides burned. He remembered the way it felt before, when he wanted to die. It felt like this. It felt like his whole body was burning up from the inside out, all his shame eating him up, dowsing him in gasoline, and setting him on fire.

There was a knock on his door, but Eliott rolled away from the sound, facing the wall and closing his eyes, tears leaking from tired eyes.

“Eliott?” It was Lucas. “Eliott, it’s time for group.” When Eliott didn’t answer, the shorter boy opened the door and stepped in, the sound of his footsteps hesitating for a moment before he shuffled over to Eliott’s bed. There was a slight dip and Eliott felt Lucas stretch out beside him. He wasn’t touching him, but he was close enough to feel him there. “Eliott?”

“Leave me alone,” Eliott whispered.

“Do you want me to get Dr. Quinn.”

“Non.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Guilt knotted in his stomach. “Non.”

“Can… Can I hold you?”

Eliott turned over and rolled into Lucas’ embrace, feeling the younger boy wrap him up protectively. “Can we just stay here?” Why was he doing this? Why was he craving the attention of a boy he barely knew? He had never wanted someone’s attention and comfort this much. “Lucas?”

“Mmm?”

“You’re really small.”

Lucas laughed, the vibration of it in his chest sending shock waves of happiness through Elliot, fighting valiantly against the clinging, sticky sadness but eventually losing. At least he was trying.

 

*

 

Elliot didn’t get out of bed for three days. Lucas stayed with him as long as he could, but he was forced out to go to dinner the first day, having missed breakfast and lunch, the group sessions, and to meals the other two days. Eliott drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes he woke up in Lucas’ arms, sometimes he didn’t. It hurt, when he didn’t, but it also hurt when he did. It was like his body needed Lucas, a physical need that scared him just as much as he liked it. Lucas was new, he was different.

He was also sick, one way or another, even if he wouldn’t tell Eliott what he was here for.

 

*

 

Eliott didn’t like group. It was generally everyone just bitching about their lives, and he didn’t have much to bitch about. Sure, he could have, but who wanted to hear about his shit? He certainly didn’t, and he lived through it.

His favourite time of day was art therapy. He got to paint and he got to draw, but best of all, he was left alone for a stretch of time. No one came to talk to him. Lucas would sometimes sit near him, working on his own art, showing Eliott some of them. One of them was of the night nurse, the woman who looked into their rooms every 15 minutes over the night to make sure they weren’t dying, or something like that. Eliott had found it extremely distracting the first few nights, barely getting any sleep, but he had soon gotten accustomed to it. Lucas had drawn her, exaggerating her features until she looked more like a cave person than a kind if not tired orderly.

Snorting with laughter, Eliott shook his head as Lucas laughed. Arthur and Yann walked in, sitting next to Lucas and pulling some supplies near to them. Eliott nodded at them, getting a nod back from them both before Arthur stuck out his tongue and flipped him off, looking slightly pained and apologetic immediately afterwards.

“It’s okay,” Eliott said.

“It’s really not,” Arthur whispered, sighing and leaning over his paper. “It’s like I have a clown in my brain, shitting in between my thoughts.” He flapped both of his hands against his chest and whistled like a bird. “Sorry.”

“My favourite one is when you told our English teacher she dyed her pubes purple,” Lucas said, not looking up from his painting. 

Yann laughed. “Or when you yell ‘pedophile!’ whenever you see the gym teacher.”

Arthur smiled, looking slightly happier. 

“Do you know when it’s going to happen?” Eliott asked.

“Yep.” Arthur flipped him off again, not bothering to apologize this time. “It builds up, like a sneeze.”

“Can you stop it?”

“Can you stop a sneeze?”

Eliott conceded to this point. He turned back to his painting, less and less startled by every tick until they passed almost unnoticed. 

 

*

 

It was time for Eliott’s first weekly check up. He walked to the nurses office down the hall from his bedroom, feeling better than he had in awhile. His thoughts were starting to race again, and he could tell he was being more affectionate than usual, but Lucas didn’t seem to mind. The shorter boy seemed to live for the attention he was given, smiling and laughing freely. Eliott thought he might be falling in love.

“Non!” Eliott stopped outside the office, staring at the closed door.

“Lucas, please, just get on the-”

“Non!” Lucas was nearly yelling, his voice shaking with a combination of rage and fear. 

“Lucas…”

The door was wrenched open and Lucas nearly ran into him, tears in his eyes. He stopped when he saw there was someone there, but threw himself into Eliott’s arms when he realised who it was. Eliott held him, confused, but loving nonetheless. 

“Lucas, what happened?”

But Lucas shook his head. “Ill tell you later, okay?”

“A conversation for another time.” He took a chance and placed a kiss to the top of Lucas’ head, feeling the younger boy almost melt into him. “I have to get my check up, Lucas. Will you wait for me?”

Lucas nodded, taking a seat on the floor next to the door.

Eliott went into the nurses office and she closed the door behind him. She took his vitals, checked his eyes and ears, and even pricked his finger to take his blood sugar level. She smiled at him throughout, explaining that he looked to be in perfect health.

“Last thing,” she said, glancing to the door for a second before looking up at Eliott. “If you could take off your hoodie and your shoes and step on the scale, please.”

Doing as he was told, Eliott stepped onto the scale, watching as she adjusted the weights on it and took down how much he weighed.

“Merci. You can go now.”

He slipped his feet back into his shoes and he picked up his hoodie, opening the door and walking out. He held out a hand for Lucas, still on the ground.

“Are you going to wear that?” Lucas asked, pointing to the hoodie.

“Non. I’m too warm. Do you want it?”

Lucas made grabby hands towards it, smiling and laughing along with Eliott. He shucked off his shirt, briefly exposing thin arms and a loose shirt before pulling the hoodie over his head. It reached mid thigh on him, cocooning him in cloth. It was much too big for him, but Eliott thought it was cute.

“Merci, mon mec,” Lucas said, blushing.

“I’m your mec?” Eliott laughed.

“Oui.”

Eliott smiled. “Tu es mon mec.”

 


	4. Week 3

It was Tuesday during his third week at the hospital when Dr. Quinn announced they were going on a trip. All of them were going to a museum, something fun to do instead of group and therapy. Eliott was excited, he loved going to art museums. Dr. Quinn said they were going to eat breakfast at the hospital and then leave for the museum. They were going to have lunch there, which the hospital was going to pay for, but if they wanted to buy anything in the gift shop, then they’d have to use their own money. Another added bonus! They were all getting their phones and wallets back for the day. Dr. Quinn wanted them to feel like they were just “normal kids”. Eliott was ready to leave as soon as he’d heard the announcement, but he had to wait an entire day.

“Aren’t you excited?” Eliott asked, wrapped his arms around Lucas’ shoulders. “We’re going to an art museum!”

Lucas chuckled, his hands coming to rest on top of Eliott’s. “I’m more of a science guy, myself.”

Looking around, Eliott saw that Dr. Quinn and the other doctor, Dr. Vann, weren’t in the room. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Lucas’ cheek, loving the smile it got from the boy. It was a weird thing, what was going on between them. They cuddled and swapped kisses on the cheek, held hands under the tables, but aside from their interaction last week, they hadn’t talked about what they were to each other. And what were they? Eliott loved the idea of Lucas being his boyfriend, if only they were allowed to have relationships in the ward. He wondered if Lucas wanted the same.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Eliott said. “You seem like a very scientifically minded person.”

“You know what’s going to happen with science,” Lucas answered. His voice was quiet, but Eliott chalked it up to him being comfortable in his arms. “Even when things go wrong, you can always find out why.”

Eliott nodded. “But with art, there are so many layers, so much depth.” They were walking now, towards the art room, hand in hand. “Everyone sees something different.”

Lucas shrugged, opening the door for them and smiling in greeting at Basile and Arthur. Basile was sat an arms length from his best friend, laughing wildly at something Arthur had said.

“Fuck him in the ass!” Arthur yelled in a way of greeting, immediately going red in the face. “Désolé.”

Eliott chuckled, pulling Lucas back into his embrace.

“Really, what is going on between you two?” Basile asked, fiddling with his pen.

Lucas looked up at Eliott and he looked down in return, filling to the brim with joy as Lucas smiled widely at him. “C’est mon mec.”

Basile and Arthur whooped in delight, Basile a little louder than the other. Eliott leaned down and captured Lucas’ lips in his, feeling the shorter boy gasp, a hand coming to rest on the back of his neck. He pulled away slightly, smiling up at him again.

“Careful, Eliott.” Lucas’ voice was ragged and his eyes were dark. “We can’t get caught.”

“We won’t.”

 

*

 

The day of the excursion started off strangely. Eliott was still excited to go, but it was like his body wasn’t on the same wavelength. His brain was firing a mile a minute, but his body was heavy and lethargic. He dragged himself out of bed and to the dining hall, sitting down next to Lucas and Yann with a bowl of cereal. Basile and Arthur joined them soon enough, each toting bowls of their own. Basile was almost fuming.

“What’s up?” Eliott asked.

Lucas rolled his eyes. “He’s pissed because they didn’t give him the same bowl as usual. It’s a behavioural exercise. New bowl, new him.”

“They don’t understand,” Basile ranted. “I get a new bowl, something bad happens. I don’t do my rituals, something bad happens.”

“You do know that nothing bad is actually going to happen, right?” Lucas asked. “You have a new bowl, everything else is staying the same.”

“Logically, yes, I know that.” Basile ran his hands through his hair, shoving his bowl away from him, milk nearly spilling onto the table. “But something in my head is telling me that if I eat from this bowl, then ma mère is going to get hurt, or mon père, or my siblings. If I don’t follow my compulsions, the voice in my head tells me that my whole world is going to fall apart. It’s not something that I can just stop.”

Eliott nodded. “That sounds awful.”

Yann hummed in agreement, eating his cereal almost as slowly as Lucas. “Sounds like a shit show.”

Basile was close to tears. “I know I have so much potential. I know I can be good and do good things, but these stupid rituals keep getting in the way.”

Eliott looked over to Arthur, who had a sympathetic look on his face. “It can’t be easy.”

“It’s not.” Basile shrugged. “I just… I want to hold hands with a girl. I want to kiss a girl. But I know that, right now at least, I can’t do that. Not without… disinfecting her first.”

Lucas chuckled.

“It’s not funny,” Basile snapped. “Just because you don’t have to worry about girls doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t, too.”

The table fell into an awkward silence. Eliott turned to Lucas to ask him if he was excited about the trip, to try to get everyone’s minds onto something else, in time to see Lucas stick his index finger in his mouth and suck on it for a moment. Confused but slightly aroused, Eliott watched as he stood slightly from his chair, slipping a leg onto the chair to support himself, and wipe his finger down Basile’s cheek, causing the other boy to shriek and fall from his chair, arms flailing almost comically. 

“What the fuck?!” he screamed, rubbing his hands over his face, standing quickly. He pulled alcohol wipes from his pocket, ripped one open, and rubbed it over his face. “Lucas, what the fuck?!”

Lucas just chuckled, twirling his spoon in his cereal. He started to reach over again, as if to touch Basile, but Basile slapped him aside, pulling another set of latex gloves from his seemingly bottomless pockets. 

“Don’t you dare touch me with your disgusting fucking bird arms!” Basile shouted.

“Oh, am I a bird?” Lucas flapped his arms, nearly hitting Eliott in the face. “I’m a little baby bird?”

Arthur let out a loud whistle that sound incredible close to bird call, causing Yann to laugh out loud.

Eliott watched the interaction with confusion bubbling in his stomach. What the hell just happened? This was very different from the Lucas he’d seen the past two weeks, very different indeed. He had deep bags under his eyes and his cheeks looked sunken in. His skin had a waxy look to it, like he hadn’t been getting enough sleep.

“Are you okay?” Eliott asked quietly, leaning towards Lucas.

“Hmm?” Lucas looked at him, a laugh still lingering in his tired eyes. 

“Are you okay?” Eliott repeated. “Do don’t look so good.” He reached a hand over to press it to Lucas’ forehead, and Lucas leaned into it, smiling happily. “You’re freezing.” Eliott stripped off his jacket and pulled it around Lucas’ shoulders.

“Merci,” Lucas whispered, leaning into his embrace. “I’m good, Eliott.”

 

*

 

The museum was amazing. Eliott walked around excitedly, hand still clasped tightly in Lucas’. Lucas lagged behind slightly when they raced up the stairs, or when Eliott walked too fast through a gallery, his longer legs taking him farther, quicker. Lucas sat down on the sofa in the middle of the room, only getting up when Eliott wanted to show him something, and only then for a short while. He was out of breath and fatigued quickly.

“It’s time for lunch,” Eliott said, looking at the clock on his phone. He was incredibly happy to have his phone back, being able to check his email and his social medias, but he also didn’t want the painful reminders that the phone brought with it. “You ready to go?”

“Don’t you want to look at some more paintings?” Lucas asked, pointing to a large Jackson Pollock on the wall. “Tell me about that one.”

“I can tell you when we get back,” Eliott said, pulling his boyfriend (his boyfriend!!!) up to stand. “He’s one of my favourite painters, though. Every single one of his pieces of art are different.”

Lucas nodded tiredly, following Eliott down to the main lobby, where they waited for the rest of the group to gather before heading to the small canteen. It was a buffet style canteen, with different stations. Dr. Quinn and Dr. Van pulled out sheets of paper, checking to see if all their patients were present. 

“Daphné,” Dr. Vann said, calling the girl to her side. “You’ll sit with me, okay?”

“But I wanted to sit with Mannon and Emma…” Daphné protested weakly. 

“They can sit with us, too.”

Dr. Quinn was looking over his group, eyeing Basile carefully as the black haired teen looked around the canteen with a suspicious eye. Eliott noticed him locking eyes with Lucas, who quickly looked away and pulled Eliott into the lines for food. Eliott’s mouth watered at the sights before him. Pastas, chicken, pork, all sorts of delicious looking dishes laid out in front of him. He filled a plate, smiling at Lucas, who was following along behind him. When they sat down, Eliott dug in, glancing at Lucas, who was separating the different vegetables in the medley he’d chosen.

“Don’t like it?” Eliott asked.

“Non, I do,” Lucas said with a smile. “I just don’t like mushrooms.”

The meal went by without event, other than the other patrons at the museum glancing over at them, at Arthur in particular, who was having a hard time keeping his ticks under control. Eliott still thought it was a shame that Arthur had been shoved into the ward with them. He was glad for the other boys company, glad that Yann, Basile, and Lucas still had their friend, but also always still shocked that all four of them were there in the first place. Arthur didn’t belong, and Yann could probably have done well in an outpatient facility or even just in therapy. Basile needed the help, Eliott could see that. And Lucas was still a mystery to him, despite how close they’d gotten. 

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Lucas said, grimacing and rubbing his stomach.

“Are you okay?”

“Something just hasn’t sat well.”

Eliott watched him get up and walk away, but something inside him told him this wasn’t okay. He should follow. Eliott fiddled with his fork, looking this way and that, conflicted, before seeing that Dr. Vann was looking around for something, or more likely someone. Eliott felt like a hand had reached into his chest and clamped around his heart, causing it to spasm painfully. Eliott stood and picked up his and Lucas’ trays, bringing them to the bin and tipping away their leftover food, then walking calmly into the hallway to find the bathroom. 

He couldn’t find it at first, but when he did, his heart began to thump in his chest. When he stepped in, the first thing that struck him was the stench of vomit. He heard Lucas coughing and gagging.

“Lucas?” he called.

The gagging stopped and the toilet flushed. Lucas stepped out of the stall, holding his stomach and wiping his mouth.

“What happened?” Eliott asked, reaching his hands for Lucas’ shoulders. “Did you get sick?”

Lucas nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Something didn’t sit well,” was all he said, moving to wash his hands and rinse out his mouth.

Eliott pulled him close after, his mind troubled. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Not really…” Lucas snuggled into his arms, sighing. “I wanna go home.”

“You will,” Eliott promised. “Soon.”

 

*

 

The trip back to the hospital was quiet, with Lucas curled up against Eliott’s side. Eliott was incredibly surprised they hadn’t been talked to yet. They weren’t really shy about affection, aside from the kisses. They had only kissed a few times since the art room, since Lucas had declared their status, since Eliott had seen that it meant as much to Lucas as it did to him. He was so fucking happy. 

Most of the time.

There was definitely something going on with Lucas. The others seemed to know, and either they were keeping it from him or they thought he already knew. He didn’t want to ask anyone because he didn’t want to go behind Lucas’ back, but he didn’t want to ask Lucas, because he knew that he wouldn’t answer him truthfully. This whole relationship was a roller coaster of thoughts, but Eliott knew he didn’t want off the ride. 

Lucas shifted against him, fast asleep, and Eliott wrapped his arm around him tighter, frowning slightly as he did. He slowly brushed his hand up Lucas’ side, feeling the bumps of his ribs under the thick sweatshirt. Lucas was smaller than he thought.

 

*

 

He knew Lucas was going to love it!

A trip to the nurses office, faking a cough, getting bed rest for the night. No more therapy for the night.

Stealing the door keys from the guard desk was almost too easy, but who was he to question it? 

Getting his phone was harder, but he managed to do it.

Lucas wasn’t in group. It was being led by Dr. Vann. Eliott tapped his feet against the tile while he waited for it to be over. The door to Lucas’ room was cracked open, and Eliott could see him inside. He was crying.

“What happened?” Eliott asked, pushing the door open and moving to embrace his boyfriend.

Lucas rubbed a hand across his cheeks, forcing a smile. “Nothing. What are you doing here?”

“I’ve got a surprise!” Eliott held up the keys, smiling widely. “Let’s go on a date. Leave for the night.”

Lucas stared at him, eyes focused hungrily in the keys. “Let’s go.”

 

*

 

They got out of the ward with surprising ease. Lucas was stifling giggles with almost every step they took. Eliott was holding his hand so tightly, excited. He knew exactly where to take Lucas, he knew exactly what to do.

Their escape from the hospital was a breeze. They stepped out into the crisp autumn wind, Lucas taking in a chestful of air, smiling to himself and looking around with wide eyes.

“Let’s go!”

Eliott pulled him along, passed several stores and bus stops, a library and a fair few restaurants. He stopped in front of a pub, a little hole in the wall establishment.

“I love this place,” Eliott said, smiling at Lucas, not catching the hesitant gleam in his eyes. “They have great food, you’re going to love it!”

Lucas followed him inside, sitting across from him in a little secluded corner table, shadowy and private. Eliott held his hand above the table, turning it over and tickling his palm, his fingers. He traced the edge of Lucas’ bandages, looking up at Lucas.

“I couldn’t take my parents fighting anymore,” Lucas whispered. “Fighting about money, about each other, about me. Everything was out of control.” 

Eliott slipped their fingers together, feeling his blood buzzing in his skin. “I’ll never let that happen to you again.”

Lucas smiled at him, wide and open. “Thank you.”

“I will always take care of you.” Eliott nodded. He started to say something, but the waiter came over with two glasses of water and to ask for their order. Eliott ordered for them, sharing some appetizers, some nachos and an antipasto plate. When it came, he picked up a slice of ham, breaking it apart and handing half of it to Lucas. “This is honestly the best ham in the whole world.”

Lucas nodded, taking a bit, his eyes rolling back as he savoured the flavour. “This… this is amazing.” 

Eliott laughed, nodding. He scooped up a nacho and held it out for Lucas, who took a bite and chuckled as strings of cheese got caught on his chin. Brushing it aside, he smiled at Eliott before looking around at the restaurant. “How did you find this place?”

“An old friend,” Eliott said. 

Lucas raised an eyebrow, wanting to know more, but nodded when Eliott didn’t elaborate. “A conversation for another time.”

When they were done with the food, Lucas stood. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

Eliott caught his hand and shook his head, standing alongside him. “We need to go.”

Confused, Lucas frowned up at him. “Go?”

Smiling, Eliott leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I don’t have any money.” And he grabbed Lucas’ hand and they bolted.

They were still running a few blocks away, Eliott laughing out loud and grinning from ear to ear, Lucas lagging behind, chest heaving. They stopped at the entrance to a park, one Eliott knew very well. 

“Let’s go in,” he said, starting to reach for the locked gate when a retching sound behind him made him stop. Turning around, he saw Lucas hunched over a bin, knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the rim. “Lucas?” He walked over, brushing Lucas’ hair from his eyes and patting his back. “Too much running?”

Lucas nodded, wiping his mouth in the back of his hand, resting his forehead on his forearm for a moment. He looked up at Eliott, smiling apologetically. “Désolé.”

“It’s okay,” Eliott chuckled. “Let’s go into the park, yeah?”

Not waiting to see if Lucas was following, he picked the lock and walked in, hearing more than seeing Lucas fall into place beside him. 

“This is my secret place,” Eliott said, looking around almost proudly. “Where I come when I want to be alone.”

“It’s dark.” Lucas sniffled. “I don’t like the dark.”

Eliott took his hand. “I have you.”

They walked for a while in comfortable silence, Eliott’s mind still spiralling, wanting to pull Lucas ahead, faster, show him the bridge, show him the place he’d almost died. Is that why he’d brought him here? To show him where he’d tried to die? He didn’t know. He looked at Lucas one more time, he was still catching his breath from the run over, and dropped his hand, pushing his arm slightly, grinning. 

“Race you to the bridge!” 

Eliott, for the second time that night, took off, his feet slapping against the earthen floor. He heard Lucas yell out behind him and take off after him, but he either stopped running quickly, or Eliott was too far ahead. He reached the bridge and whooped, holding up his hands in celebration, turning around to open his arms to Lucas, to hold him in a close embrace and spin him around. What he saw, however, wasn’t Lucas running towards him.

Lucas was on his side in the mud, eyes closed, legs bent awkwardly over each other.

“Lucas?” Eliott called, running back to him, pushing him onto his back.

A crack of thunder.

“Lucas?”

It started to rain.

“Lucas!”

 


	5. Week 4

Eliott was confined to his room. His head was buzzing, his feet were tapping against the cold linoleum. He couldn’t sit still, but moving around would get him yelled at. They wouldn’t tell him what was going on, all he knew was that Lucas wasn’t back in the ward from the intensive care unit downstairs. He hasn’t been back for a whole day, and the intense buzzing, buzzing, buzzing was still attacking Eliott’s body, he needed to move, he needed to see what was going on.

He had pulled Lucas under the bridge, escaping the rain and keeping them both dry. He held his hand against Lucas’ neck, his heart beating rapidly in his own chest when there was nothing moving in Lucas’. He pulled out his phone and frantically called the emergency line, putting it on speaker phone and waiting, just waiting. 

“What is your emergency?” the woman calmly asked on the other side of the line.

“I need an ambulance,” Eliott said, his voice shaking. “My boyfriend isn’t breathing, his heart’s not beating.”

“Okay, sir, can you tell me where you are?” 

Eliott rattled off the address of the park, still holding Lucas, limp in his arms. “We’re under the bridge.”

“Do you know how to perform CPR, sit?”

CPR? “No! I don’t know what to do!”

“Okay, sir, everything is going to be alright. Can you find the bottom of his breastbone? Where the ribs come together in the middle of the chest.”

Eliott’s hands when to Lucas’ chest, finding the spot the woman described. “Yeah?”

“Now place the heel of your palm under that area, in the soft part.” He did as he was told. “Now, you need to start doing compressions. You need to lace your fingers together and straighten your arms, and press down about two inches. Do you know the song “Staying Alive” by the Bee Gees?”

“What?” Eliott stared down at his phone. “Yes?”

“Keep that beat in your head, okay, that’s the beat you need to do the compressions at.”

There was the sound of ambulances in the distance.

“Can you do that for me?”

“I think so…” He started to do as she said, hoping against hope that he was doing it right.

“Okay. You’re doing great. For every thirty compressions, you need to give him air, okay? You need to tilt back his head, making sure his chin is pointing at the ceiling or the sky. Then you need to open his mouth and punch his nose, and breathe for him twice, bringing your head up between breathes. Okay?”

Eliott grunted in reply, trying to keep his pace and track of how many times he’d compressed down against Lucas’ chest. When he got to thirty, he almost scrambled to tilt Lucas’ head back softly, pinch his nose, and lean over to breathe into his mouth. He sat back slightly before bending down again.

“After you breath for him, you need to keep up with the compressions, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I need you to know that this might fracture or crack one or more ribs. Don’t stop if you feel or hear a cracking sound, okay?”

“Okay.”

Eliott was halfway through his second set of compressions when Lucas gasped and started to cough.

“He’s breathing!” Eliott called.

“Good!” The woman on the other end of the phone cheered in delight alongside Eliott. “Now keep him still. The ambulance is almost there.”

The sounds had grown louder, and soon the sounds of footsteps came rushing towards them. Three men dressed in uniforms came towards them, each holding a bag of some sort.

“Over here!” Eliott called, knowing it was hard to see them in the dark if the tunnel.

A flashlight burned into his vision, and he blinked a few times.

“Eliott?” Lucas croaked. “What’s going on…?”

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Eliott said, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’ll be okay.”

The men brought over a stretcher, descending it all the way to their level at the ground. They began to instruct Eliott and Lucas, but Lucas struggled against them, weakly but with heat.

“Lucas,” Eliott begged, “please, just let them help.”

“I don’t need help!” Lucas said, but they managed to get him, kicking and punching, into the stretcher, to the street, and into the ambulance.

Eliott got to ride in the back, holding Lucas’ hand all the way to the hospital.

“Can you tell me his last name, Eliott?” one man asked.

“Lallemant,” Eliott said, and then frowned at the man who asked. “How do you know my name?”

“We picked you up a few weeks ago.” He smiled. “Rupert, remember?”

Vaguely. “Yes.”

He couldn’t follow Lucas in, he was held back by a very stern looking Dr. Quinn. Dr. Vann followed the paramedics into the hospital, gathering as much information as she could.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dr. Quinn asked, leading him back to the ward with an iron grip on his upper arm.

“Nothing!” Eliott said, his blood beginning to boil. He was mad at himself, at Dr. Quinn. “We just wanted to have a fun night out!”

“A fun night out?” Dr. Quinn asked, viciously punching the call button for the elevator. “You do understand that he’s sick, right?”

“He’s mentally ill, so what?” Eliott snapped. “So am I!”

“He’s anorexic, Eliott!” Dr. Quinn all but shoved him into the elevator. “He’s far more sick, physically, then you are! He hasn’t eaten anything in weeks.”

“That’s not true!” Eliott said. “He’s always eaten when he’s been with me. At the museum, in the dining hall, tonight!”

“And then he went to the bathroom, right?” Dr. Quinn was almost smirking at him. “Maybe not here, because we won’t let him, but he avoided sitting with me on the excursion trip so that he could leave, and he knew you wouldn’t follow him. He probably even went to the bathroom after you guys had finished eating tonight, right?”

“No!” Eliott said, but he was starting to break out in a cold sweat. Lucas had wanted to go to the bathroom before they left. “I didn’t give him the chance, we needed to move on, I wanted to show him my park, my bridge.”

“Your bridge?” Dr. Quinn asked, looking him up and down. His demeanour was changing, he was acting more like Eliott’s doctor than Lucas’. “You mean the bridge you tried to commit suicide under? Eliott, why did you go back?”

“Because it was my happy place. I wanted to let him into my world, let him know a part of me that no one else knew. I had big plans, we were going to run away and get married and have kids and live out the rest of our lives together in some cottage by the sea and-“

“You’re rambling, Eliott.”

The anger boiled over. “So what?” he screamed. “So what? I’m mad and I’m scared and I’m allowed to ramble! Don’t you understand? I love him!”

“No, Eliott, I don’t understand. How can you say that you love him? You didn’t even know he has an eating disorder.”

“Because he didn’t tell me!” Eliott could feel the frustrated tears in his eyes, threatening to spill. “He didn’t tell me!” He was crying, sobbing. “He d-didn’t tel-l me…”

Dr. Quinn brought him close, held him tight. He walked Eliott to his room and closed the door behind him.

 

*

 

Lucas was back on the ward the next day. He was confined to his room, but Eliott was let out of his own. He went to breakfast and group in a haze, the numbness of the last few days settling into his bones. He went to art therapy, but couldn’t seem to think of anything to draw. He doodled a raccoon, himself, and a hedgehog, who he decided was Lucas. He slipped it under Lucas’ door before standing there for a few minutes, hoping to hear something inside.

“Eliott?” His voice was weak.

“Lucas?”

“Please don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you.”

There was a shuffling behind the door, and Eliot saw a shadow fall over the closed curtain over his window. It was closed from Eliott’s side, and he reached up and undid the latch, letting the light from the hallway stream into Lucas’ room. Lucas looked a mess, but he was smiling. He held a finger to the window, and Eliott pressed his own against it.

“The paramedics told me you saved me,” Lucas said. His voice was muffled by the glass, but Eliott could hear enough to know that Lucas was tired. He had a pale white tube running up his neck, behind his ear, along his cheek, and into his nose. “You restarted my heart.”

Eliott nodded. “I did. You scared me.”

“I’m okay.”

“Lucas… your heart gave out. You stopped breathing.”

“But I had you there to bring me back.” Lucas smiled, the tape holding the tube in place cause his skin to crinkle around the edges. “We would have been fine.”

“I didn’t know what to do until I called the emergency number, Lucas. You would have died.”

Lucas shrugged. “Then we both would have died under the bridge.” 

Eliott frowned. “What?”

“Isn’t that why you brought me there? To show me where you died?”

“I didn’t die.”

“They had to resuscitate you. You died, Eliott.”

Eliott took that in for a moment, leaning his forehead against the cool glass separating them.

“You do know that the door is unlocked, right?” came a voice from behind him. Turning, Eliott made eye contact with Dr. Quinn, who was stood holding plain white and blue carton of something. “You can go in.”

Eliott reached down for the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open slightly. Lucas pulled it open the rest of the way, reaching for Eliott. Eliott let himself be brought into the room, feeling Lucas’ arms wrap around his waist and his head tuck beneath his chin. Eliott was shaking, tears in his eyes, holding his boy, his small, broken boy. 

“Eliott?” Dr. Quinn asked. “Are you okay?”

Eliott tightened his hold on Lucas, not wanting the other boy to see him cry. He had held Lucas as he was dying, he had brought him back to life. He was so utterly confused and conflicted, not wanting to let go but wanting to run away at the same time. He was terrified of losing Lucas, he was terrified of being in the same situation he was two days ago. He held on so tightly, letting the tears run down his cheeks, heat rising to his face and making him feel overly warm, but he was never going to let go.

“Lucas,” he whispered. “Don’t ever so that to me again.”

Lucas chuckled slightly. “I didn’t really have a choice about my heart stopping, Eliott.”

Eliott pulled away, slowly, keeping his hands on Lucas’ shoulders. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

Nodding, Lucas dropped his smile, reaching up to brush the tears from Eliott’s face. 

“As much as I love this,” Dr. Quinn said, “and I do, I do love that you guys are there for each other, I do actually need to talk to Lucas.”

Eliott nodded, sitting down in Lucas’ bed and watching as Lucas sat down next to him. They both looked at Dr. Quinn, who sighed and mumbled something to himself.

“Okay.” He pulled Lucas’ desk chair forward and sat across from him. He pulled a sterile package from his pocket and a pair of latex gloves. The packet had a long loop of pale white tubing in it, with a clip on the end. “This is going to attach to the clip on the end of the tube that feeds in through your nose. Over the next hour, the liquid will pass from the carton into your stomach, where it will stay.” He made direct eye contact with Lucas at this point. “It’s high in calories but low in fats, meaning that it will stay in your system. You’ve been starving yourself for too long, which means that bringing food back into your body will be hard.” He connected the tube to the one that was tucked behind Lucas’ ear. “When the hour is up, I will come and disconnect it. You can stay in here, go to group, to therapy, whatever you want, but you will not go to the bathroom and you will not disconnect the tubes, okay?”

Lucas nodded, looking down at his hands.

“I did warn you this was coming, Lucas. Two days ago. I said that if you didn’t make any further progress, if you stopped lying about your food intake, you’d be fed through a tube.” Dr. Quinn sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry that it came to this.”

Shrugging, Lucas laid back in his bed, tugging Eliott down next to him. Dr. Quinn sighed again before standing up and walking to the door.

“You guys need to be careful. It’s against the rules for patients to be involved romantically. Don’t get caught.”

 

*

 

Later that day, Eliott was in Dr. Quinn’s office for his daily therapy session. He sat down in the armchair, feeling awkward, folding his feet beneath him as he did. Dr. Quinn rested his face in his hands and sighed, not looking up at Eliott when he began to speak.

“The whole hospital went on red alert when we realised the two of you were missing.” He took in a deep breath. “When we figured out that you’d stolen the keys, the hospital was pulled off red alert, but the police were informed. We were told, when we called in that you were gone, that they already had you two. That you were heading back to the hospital in an ambulance, and my first thought was that you guys had gone and done some stupid Romeo and Juliet shit.” He dropped his hands and looked at Eliott, tired. It was the first time that Eliott actually noticed how old the doctor was. He must have been in his late 50s, the hair at his temples heavily greyed. “I’m…. I’m really glad you guys are alive.”

This wasn’t where Eliott thought the conversation was going to go. He nodded, feeling even more awkward.

“What was going through your mind when you took the keys?”

“I just… wanted to get out again. Lucas wanted to go home, so I was going to take him home after I showed him the bridge. I… didn’t do it for some selfish reason. I just wanted to explain where my head had been that night. He told me about his attempt and it sprang into my head.”

“He told you about his attempt?” Dr. Quinn asked.

“Oui, he told me about how his parents were always fighting and how he was overwhelmed.” Eliott shrugged. “He told me, so I wanted to show him where I had tried.”

Dr. Quinn was scribbling something down in his notebook. “Did he tell you anything more?”

“He said that everything was out of control.” 

Dr. Quinn nodded. “How did you feel, going back?”

“Amazing,” Eliott said with a small smile. “That whole night, I felt so good. The day before at the museum, the day of, even the next day, when Lucas was in the hospital, I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t keep my mind on one thing, it was all over the place. I just had to keep moving, to keep going. It’s like my thoughts would have eaten me if I didn’t keep moving.”

“Do you feel like this often?” Dr. Quinn wrote everything down. “This fast pace thinking?”

“Oui.” Eliott swallowed, looking down at his hands. “The first time was when I was… 14? I was younger, I know that. I was obsessed with the piano. I think I learned how to play the piano in a week? It kept coming and going, but I stuck with the piano for about two months. I wasn’t stuck on that for the entire time, and there were times between the obsessions that I wanted to curl up and die, but… yeah. A month ago it got bad again. I memorised the qu’ran for a boy. I tried to kiss him, and he pushed me away, telling me that it was against god. I ran away, basically. I stopped going to school, I failed my bacs, I stopped talking to all my friends.  I spiralled into a dark place and then I tried to kill myself.”

After writing down what Eliott was saying, Dr. Quinn looked up once more, his eyes slightly narrowed. “So this period of…. mania, let’s call it, leads to your periods of depression?”

Once again, Eliott shrugged. “I guess?”

“Do you ever feel a combination of those feelings? Of depression and mania?”

“I… yeah. Sometimes it feels like my body is really heavy but my thoughts are running wild, or my mind is totally blank, but my body is full of ants and I just have to move, even though all I want to do is sleep.”

“Have you been suicidal in the past?”

“I’ve never acted on it before this time, but yeah. Quite a lot, actually.”

Dr. Quinn nodded. “How would you feel about going on a low dose antidepressant? And a higher dose mood stabiliser?”

“Do I have a choice?”

With a chuckle, Dr. Quinn looked back down at his notes. “Not really.”


	6. Week 5

The meds were fucking with Eliott’s head. His whole existence felt numb, his body, his mind, every fiber, particle, atom in his body felt like nothing. It wasn’t even a floaty, weightless nothing, it was a heavy, dead weight nothing. He stared at the ceiling, convinced he’d stopped breathing at some point, the air just drifting in and out of his lungs on its own accord. He felt no emotions, had no big thoughts. He didn’t react when Dr. Quinn came in to ask why he wasn’t at group, didn’t react when Yann came in to poke him and tell him that Lucas was asking for him. He just wasn’t. 

At some point, he got up and went to the dining hall, his body motivated by the primal need for food. Today, there was a thick beef stew on the menu, and it was delicious, but Eliott ate it mechanically, all of his food feeling and tasting like ash in his mouth. He didn’t even react when Arthur, Basile, and Yann sat with him. He only perked up slightly when Yann mentioned something about Lucas, but even that was just to look up and nod slightly. He couldn’t even remember what Yann had said.

“Is he okay?” Basile asked, eyeing him up and down.

“He was put on new meds,” Yann said. “I saw him get them a few days ago.”

“Damn.” 

Arthur also looked suitably numb. “Did they put him on the same stuff as me?”

“What did they put you on?” Yann asked.

“I don’t even know.” Arthur rolled his shoulders. “But my head is completely empty, but my ticks are still -  _ fuck _ \- still there.” He extended his arms above his head. “It’s like my brain is gone but nothing else it.” He swore again, flipping Yann off with both hands before thumping his chest with both hands clenched in fists. 

“That must suck,” Eliott mumbled.

When he was done with his lunch, Eliott placed his tray near the bin and walked down the hall, stopping to look into his room before turning back around and going to Lucas’ door. He knocked, and when a quiet voice responded, he walked in and laid down next to his boyfriend. 

“Hey,” Lucas said, smiling slightly. “You haven’t been to visit me in a few days. Thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“Never,” Eliott said into Lucas’ pillow. He was laying face down and trying very hard not to breathe. He wanted to know if he needed it, because it felt like he hadn’t been breathing for a while. “I’ll never forget about you.”

“Where have you been?” Lucas asked.

“In bed.” Eliott scooched over and slung an arm over Lucas’ lap. “I felt like I couldn’t get up, and then they put me on some medication and now I really don’t have a brain.”

With a chuckle and a soft smile, Lucas started to trace the veins under Eliott’s skin. “Are you feeling any better now?”

“Better than what?”

“I don’t know. Than how you felt before the medication. With the ups and downs.” They’d talked about it after Eliott’s last individual therapy session Eliott had left Lucas’ side for an hour, returned, and then left for three days. He could understand why Lucas was insecure. “Less…”

“Bipolar?” Because that’s what he was. Dr. Quinn had told him after he had decided to prescribe the medication.

“We’ve come to the conclusion, based off your symptoms and the things you’ve talked about in our sessions together,” Dr. Quinn had said, “that you have bipolar I disorder. It’s a pretty serious illness, which we don’t usually like to diagnose in someone as young as you, but it seems like this has been going on for a long while.”

Eliott had sat with the information for a few moments. The first thing in his mind, for some reason, had been his parents. How would be explain this to his parents? Where were his parents? “Why haven’t my parents come to visit me?”

Dr. Quinn had sighed. “We have a policy in this ward that parents, friends, loved ones, aren’t allowed to visit for the first five weeks. Just in case the situation is influenced by the people that our patients are around. They’ve called almost every day for updates though, and asked if they could talk to you.”

“And you said no?”

“I reminded them of our policy. Some patients are in abusive situations, which can exacerbate the illness. You, obviously, are not. Your parents really seem to love you.”

Eliott smiled at the memory.

“What are you smiling about?” Lucas asked.

“Do you think your parents would like me?” he asked back.

“My parents?” When Eliott nodded, Lucas thought for a moment. “I think so? Ma mére certainly would.” He softly poked Eliott in the side. “What about your parents?”

“They’d love you.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, touching but not demanding anything from the other. Dr. Quinn came in at one point to attach another carton of the calorific liquid, doing a double take when he saw Eliott.

“I told you both to be careful,” Dr. Quinn sighed. “Anyone could walk in.”

“This isn’t compromising,” Lucas argued. “He’s just here for a hug.”

Dr. Quinn had a face that screamed  _ bitch please _ , but he let it go. “It’s your last day on this, Lucas. Are you ready to start eating in the canteen again?”

Lucas shrugged, watching with a detached sort of revulsion as Dr. Quinn attached the tubing to the clip. 

“And you get your stitches out tonight. Isn’t that exciting?”

Again, Lucas shrugged.

“You’ll be sitting with me at meal times,” Dr. Quinn continued. “Your friends can sit with us as well, but we won’t leave until you’ve finished everything on your plate. And you won’t be allowed to be alone for the half hour after you finished eating.”

Lucas rolled his eyes and slumped down further in his bed. “Fine.”

Dr. Quinn sighed. “Fine. Getting that tube out hurts a bit, by the way. You’ll be going to the nurses office after this is empty.” Getting up, he patted Eliott on the back and walked out, closing the door firmly behind himself.

Lucas sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Great.”

“Lucas?” Eliott asked, his voice quiet.

“Hmm?” Lucas rolled onto his side so that he was facing Eliott, still wrapped up in the older boys arm. He snuggled in, closing his eyes, trying to get comfortable.

“Why don’t you eat?”

Lucas’ eyes snapped open, and he stared at Eliott for a long few seconds. “It’s the only thing I can control.”

Eliott thought that over for a few moments. “What do you mean?”

“My parents were always fighting, no matter how many times I tried to get them to stop. My grades were always fluctuating, no matter how hard I studied. I fell in love with my straight best friend. I couldn’t… make anything go the way I wanted it to go. Yann would joke that the only thing I had going for me was my looks. And I took that and ran with it. I could control what went into my body. I could control what I ate. I started with no junk food. Then I went to no meat. I stopped eating lunch. I figured that if I could control myself, my hunger, during the school day, why couldn’t I do it at breakfast? I stopped eating breakfast. I could control everything that entered my body. I stopped eating all together.” He was crying at this point, his voice quavering and squeaking. His chin wobbled, his mouth held in a tight line, trying to make himself stop. “I could control everything that I did to my body. When I felt hungry. When I felt pain. I started to cut myself, my thighs and my hips. I could do whatever I wanted to my body, and no one could stop me.” He buried his head into Eliott’s chest when he was pulled close. “No one could make me do anything. Until I fainted during detention and my teacher called the nurse. Until the nurse called an ambulance. Until the hospital called my parents. And there they were, screaming at each other at the end of my bed. Screaming at each other in the car ride home. Screaming at each other when I closed my bedroom door and slit my own wrists. They’re probably still screaming at each other, and I can’t do anything to make them stop.”

“It’s not your responsibility to make them stop,” Eliott whispered, stroking his hair. “It’s their responsibility to take care of you.”

Lucas continued to cry, his body shaking with sobs. “I can’t… stop, Eliott. So many times I looked in the mirror and saw what I was doing to myself, saw the bone where I couldn’t before, and I felt to fucking proud of myself. Whenever I felt hungry, I knew that I had caused that. I was happy with what I’d done to myself. And now?” He let out a humourless, watery chuckle. “Now I look at myself and all I see is fat. All I see is myself, getting fatter and fatter, just from being here. Just from breathing in the air. I can’t go back to that. I can’t go back to not being in control. I can’t.”

Eliott held him close, let him sob against his chest. “Lucas… you need to stop.” He didn’t let Lucas pull away. “No, listen to me, please. You’re not… You can control your body without depriving it of the things it needs.” He kissed the top of his head. “You can eat good foods, exercise. You can move out, live somewhere healthy.”

Lucas let out a derisive chuckle, not even trying to pull away anymore. “Like where?”

“Like…” Eliott sighed. “I don’t know.”

“You could move in with me.”

They both jumped and looked up to the door, where Mannon was standing, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. 

“We have an extra room. My cousin, Lisa, her friend, Mika, and I all rent a flat just a few blocks from school. We were looking for a fourth member almost as soon as we moved in.” She blushed slightly. “Sorry, I was passing by and I wanted to stop in and say hello, but when I opened the door you seemed to be having a pretty intense conversation.”

Lucas shook his head. “It’s okay.”

“Mika and Lisa are coming to visit me tomorrow, if you want to meet them.” She was starting to shake, her breathing coming in short and rapid. She was starting to have a panic attack, triggered by speaking to them so abruptly.

“Hey,” Lucas said, sitting up and holding out his hand. “Come here.”

She walked forward and took his hand, holding it tightly in her sweaty grip. She let him pull her down between them, where her breathing settled and she seemed to relax.

“Will you meet them?”

“Oui.” Lucas smiled at her. “I’d love to.”

She looked at Eliott. “And you?”

He nodded. “Sure. I don’t think my parents are going to let me move out for the next thirty years, but I would love to meet your family.”

Mannon smiled. “They are my family.”

They stayed there, wrapped up in each others arms, in the calm space they created for themselves. They soon drifted off to sleep, and were found like that when Dr. Quinn came back to get Lucas.

 

*

 

It was almost midnight when Eliott got out of his own bed. He made his way to the the bathroom, slowly becoming cognizant of the fact that a shower was running, filling the room with steam. He stood by the urinal, peeing, and trying not to listen to whoever it was in the shower. When a guy took a shower so late at night, it generally meant he was jerking off, or at least it did to Eliott, and he really didn’t want to hear any of the guys masturbating. Well, he probably wouldn’t mind hearing Lucas, but it was too late for him to feel aroused by anything. 

When he was washing his hands, Eliott heard something that made his heart ache. The person in the shower was crying. And based on his previous experience with the sound, he knew that it was Lucas.

He walked over to the only shower with a drawn curtain and stopped, hand halfway to opening it.

“Lucas?” he asked.

“Go away,” Lucas sobbed. “Please, just go away.”

“Lucas… I’m going to open the curtain, okay?”

“No, just leave me alone!”

Ignoring him, Eliott slowly opened it, his heart crumpling when he saw Lucas curled up in one corner of the shower, his hair plastered to his head, tears streaming down his face, arms wrapped around himself, legs tucked up to his chest. Eliott reached over and turned the shower off, kneeling down to Lucas’ level. Ignoring the wetness spreading into the knees of his sweatpants, Eliott reached for Lucas.

Lucas slapped aside his hands. “Go away.”

Eliott caught his hand and held it tight, not letting Lucas pull away. His eyes traveled to the red line down his wrist, the pinpricks of pink along the sides from where the stitches had held the skin together. His let his gaze wander up Lucas’ arm and to his chest, his ribs standing out in stark contrast to the tight skin over his stomach. His hips and thighs, ghostly pale, were littered with silver, tan, pink lines, little scars that would never go away. His hip bones protruded.

“Lucas…”

The teen leaned forward and rested his sodden head against Eliott’s chest, tears still pouring down his face. Eliott pulled him close, holding him against his body. He tugged a towel down from the hanger next to the shower and wrapped it around Lucas’ shoulders, picking him up bridal style, feeling every point and bone in Lucas’ body. He walked slowly to Lucas’ room, setting him down softly and drying him off, wrapping him up in a thick, warm hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Lucas, still crying, clung to Eliott’s hand when he started to pull away.

“I need to go change,” Eliott whispered. “I’ll be back.”

Out in the hall, Eliott quickly walked back to his room, changing as fast as he could. The night nurse was walking towards his room when he stepped out, and she raised an eyebrow to question him.

“Lucas is having a bad night,” he said. “I’m going to stay with him.” He didn’t wait for her to protest his actions.

When he got back to Lucas’, Eliott slid into the bed and pulled Lucas near to him, feeling him shake.

“It’ll be okay,” Eliott said. “It’ll be okay.”

“Eliott?”

“Oui?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	7. Week 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Eliott was eating breakfast, his hand not so secretly clasped in Lucas’ under the table, trying not to watch as Lucas struggled through his cereal, when someone came into the room to get him.

“You have guests,” the nurse said, smiling down at him. “Your parents, and a very special girl.”

Lucas’ head whipped around, staring at him with wide eyes.

Feeling his heart clenching in his chest, Eliott shrugged, playing at nonchalant, and stood to follow the nurse. His whole body broke out in a cold sweat, and his hands began to tremble. It was a side effect of his new medication, he knew, but this didn’t seem like it. It seemed like genuine fear. The nurse smiled at him once more before opening the door to the visiting room, right off the entrance. Eliott saw three pale green sofas before he was being jumped on, thin arms wrapping themselves around his neck, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Eliott!”

It was Delphine.

It was his sister.

He wrapped his arms around her, his chest loosening, relief settling into his limbs and making him feel heavy.

“Salut, Delphine,” he said, squeezing her and walking them into the room. She had her legs wrapped around his waist, not wanting to let him go. “I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t ever go away again, okay?” She sounded so much younger than she normally did, more like she was her actual age. 

“I promise.”

Eliott sat her down on the sofa across from their dad. He was about to sit himself when his parents stood and pulled him into a hug, tight and warm and filled with so much love. His mother was crying, soothing her hands over his hair, his face, his shoulders and chest.

“How are you?” she asked. Not waiting for an answer, she squished his face slightly between her hands. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much! Have you been eating well? Have you been sleeping okay? Did you make friends? Have-”

“Mama!” Eliott interrupted, laughing. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ve been sleeping, I’ve been eating.”

She smiled, holding his face one more time before letting go and taking his hand in hers, sitting them down on one sofa. Eliott’s father sat next to Delphine, who pressed herself to his side. He wrapped an arm around her, watching his son with tired, yet happy, eyes.

“How has it been going here?” he asked.

Eliott nodded, gathering his thoughts. “It’s been… eventful, to say the least. There are some really nice people here.”

There was a silence, comfortable and warm, until his mother sighed. “We haven’t heard anything from Lucille since… that night. We called her to see if she wanted to visit, but she never called us back.”

Shrugging, Eliott smiled. “We were breaking up, anyway.”

“That’s so sad!” Delphine said. “To be all alone in a time like this.” There she went, sounding smarter than her six years.

“I’m not alone,” Eliott said. “I have you guys. I have…”

“You have who?” his father asked.

“I have Lucas.” Eliott smiled. “We’re… close.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Delphine stage whispered.

His parents looked at him, half expectantly. When he nodded, his mother wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. His father leaned forward and patted his knee, smiling widely. They had known about Eliott’s sexuality for a few years, but he had only ever had girlfriends, too afraid to actually try to be with a guy, until… well, truly until Lucas. The other boy didn’t count, he knew that now, even though it hurt to think of it in such terms. It felt like it was real at the time.

“Can we meet him?” his father asked.

Eliott shrugged. “If he wants to.”

He stood, walking to the door, but he felt a small hand slip into his before he even got to the door.

“Delphine,” his mother called out. “Stay with us.”

“Non, it’s okay,” Eliott said, picking her up and balancing her on his hip. She was so small. “I want her to come with me.”

He walked out, his sister on his hip, and made his way to the dining room. He looked in, but noticed Lucas wasn’t there. He must have moved to the group therapy room. He giggled as his sister swiveled her head this way and that to try to see everything, especially when Arthur and Basile walked out into the hall from the group room.

“Hello!” Basile said, smiling at the little girl. He looked at Eliott, his eyebrows raised. “You’re… daughter?”

Eliott laughed as Delphine made a noise of disgust. “He’s not mon père! He’s mon frère!”

“I would have been 11 if she was my daughter,” Eliott said. “She’s six.”

“Very small for six,” Arthur said, waving a hand at her, smiling as she giggled. He let out a sharp whistle that startled her, but she just stared at him, wide eyed. “Désolé.”

“Do you know where Lucas is?” Eliott asked.

“He went to his room after breakfast,” Basile said. “He was upset about something.”

Nodding, Eliott moved along, his pace speeding up as he rounded the corner to their rooms. He knocked on Lucas’ door after shifting Delphine to the floor. She clung to his hand once more, staring up at the door as she waited for it to open. Lucas pulled the door open with a force, glaring at Eliott until he noticed Delphine, and then he stared at her, confused. His eyes flickered up to Eliott, and the hostility drained from his body.

“You have a daughter?” he asked.

“Why does everyone thing he’s mon père?” Delphine asked. “He’s mon frère!”

“Your brother?” Lucas asked, kneeling down to be at her level. He was smiling. “And how is that? Is he as annoying to you as he is to me?”

She rolled her eyes. “So annoying.” She smiled brightly. “Are you my brothers boyfriend?”

He looked up at Eliott, standing, and smiled slyly. “I think I could deal with that.”

“Do you want to meet my parents?” Eliott asked.

“I think I would.”

They walked to the visitation room quietly, Delphine between them, swinging on their hands. She was the one to push open the door, running back to her father, scrambling to sit on the sofa.

“We found Lucas!” She beamed. “We met a funny bird man on the way.”

“Bird man?” Lucas asked, looking up at Eliott.

“Arthur.”

“The whistling?”

“Oui.”

Lucas nodded, sitting next to Eliott, his mother on the other side. She held out her hand, smiling, and he shook it. Her eyes traveled down to where they were clasped, and her face fell a little. Lucas’ sleeve had ridden up slightly, showing off the bottom of his scar. Then she did something that surprised even Eliott, who knew his mother was full of love and acceptance.

“Welcome to our family, Lucas,” she said, standing and crouching in front of him. She leaned forward and pulled him into a hug, pressing her body to his, trying to pass on as much love as she could in that one single hug.

Lucas hugged her back, his eyes tearing up, and he pulled away with a slight laugh. “Merci.”

 

*

 

Eliott should be happy, he should. His parents loved Lucas. His sister loved Lucas more than she loved him. Lucas wasn’t mad at him anymore. But that was the thing. He had been mad at him, and he didn’t even know why.

“Lucas?” he asked, leaning over the breakfast table the next day. When Lucas grunted that he was listening, poking his bacon with his fork, Eliott continued. “Why were you mad at me yesterday?”

“I thought… I thought you’d lied to me.” Lucas blushed slightly. “That you were just… playing me.”

“Playing you?”

“That you actually did have a girlfriend and I was just… a placeholder while you were in here.” Lucas shrugged. “But Delphine is your sister, and not your girlfriend, so. I’m all good.”

Eliott’s heart sank. “You thought I’d use you?”

Again, Lucas shrugged, not meeting his eyes. “My last boyfriend did.”

 

*

 

They were laying in bed, Lucas curled around Eliott, nearly asleep and oh, so warm. He was finally happy for the first time in such a long fucking time. He had a boyfriend who wasn’t just fucking with him. He had friends who accepted him no matter what. He was getting better. Dr. Quinn had really gotten to the roots of his eating disorder, connecting it with him repressing the fact that he’s gay for so long. Using the control over food as a way to control his own sexuality. He was finally happy.

“Lucas?”

“Oui, Eliott?”

“I have a girlfriend.”

 


	8. Week 7

Eliott hadn’t gotten out of bed in four days. He’d almost run from Lucas’ room after he’d confessed. The worst thing wasn’t that Lucas had crying. The worst thing wasn’t that Lucas had asked him to leave. The worst thing was that Lucas hadn’t even acted surprised. 

There was a knock on the door, but Elliot rolled away from the sound, towards the wall and the darkest corner of the room. Whoever it was came inside, and the bed dipped behind him.

“You fucked up.” It was Yann. “You fucked up big time.”

Eliott didn’t reply. He already knew.

Yann moved back until he was leaning against the wall in the tiny space between the end of the bed and Eliott’s feet. “When he came out to me, he told me everything. His crush on me, his family problems, his abusive boyfriend. He even told me about how he’d had a part in breaking me and Emma up. I didn’t know what to saw, what to think. So I left.”

What? Eliott shifted slightly, just enough to look at the other teen.

“I didn’t talk to him for an entire weekend, and it was the shittiest weekend in my life. I genuinely thought about killing myself, all because I had been a shitty friend and walked away. I was terrified that I’d get to school the next day and find out that he was dead. I walked into the school on Monday morning, found him in front of his locker with a big purple bruise spreading around his eye, and I hugged the living shit out of him. He cried in my arms for the first time since we were little. I told him to never go through anything like that on his own again. And he said he wouldn’t. That he’d tell me.”

Eliott didn’t understand where this was going.

“I was in detention with him the day he collapsed. I knew something was wrong. He looked small, drawn in on himself. He was mumbling and having troubles focusing on everything. He asked if he could get some water at some point, and stood, swayed on his feet, and hit the floor. I tipped over my chair I was trying to get to him to fast. I picked him up, held him while the teacher called for a nurse. Eliott, I was the one who suggested she call an ambulance. I felt all his ribs beneath his shirt. His cheekbones were sticking out. What a shitty friend I must have been, right? He didn’t tell me anything about this.” Yann let out a humourless chuckle. “He texted me that night. He said, ‘Yann, my best friend, my brother. I need you to do something for me’. And I replied, ‘Anything, what’s up?’ He texted me a few minutes later, a picture of his face, smiling, but he was crying, too. ‘Forgive me,’ he said. Forgive him? Forgive him for what? But he wouldn’t reply, so I called him, but he wouldn’t pick up. I called his parents, but they didn’t pick up. I called the police and told them his address, told them what I thought he might be doing.”

Eliott saw the first tear slide down Yann’s face, and it was like a dam broke. Yann was sobbing, probably for the first time in a long time.

“I got there just after the paramedics. I saw them rolling him out on a stretcher, all the blood. I couldn’t go with him. I couldn’t. The paramedics asked me if I wanted to, but I couldn’t. His parents were stood near the door to their house, silent. Just completely silent. I walked passed them and went up the stairs, into Lucas’ room, and I just stood there, staring at the bloodstained carpet for… I don’t even know for how long. Next thing I remember, I was at home in the shower, and my father was pounding on the door, sounding so afraid. I stopped the water, and then I was in bed, and then I was in the kitchen, my mother holding me as I screamed, kneeling on the floor.” 

Eliott sat up, bringing his knees to his chest, tears gathered in his eyes.

“I woke up here.” Yann waved vaguely around the room. “I woke up in a hospital room, with a nurse talking to me, asking me the intake questions. I had been halfway through a sentence, but I can’t remember what I had been talking about. I got to the ward a few days later, and I found out that I’d had a breakdown. Lucas was in the ward a few days later. Daphné and Mannon had been in here for a few weeks. I knew that Emma was here, too, and I tried my best to avoid speaking to her for so long. She was getting better, she didn’t need me fucking any of that up.”

It was awkward, this entire conversation, but Eliott knew Yann needed to talk.

“She was raped, you know?” When Eliott shook his head, Yann sighed. “It happened a lot when she was younger. Her babysitter. He got arrested a few years ago, and it was like something broke in her mind. All her memories came flooding back. She and I were good. We really were, but… shit happened. We stopped seeing each other as someone we could confide in, and then everything happened with her cheating on me and Lucas telling the guy’s girlfriend, and all that. She kept having these… episodes, where it was like she wasn’t at all present. Panic attacks in the middle of class. She’s been here for a few months.”

“I thought that they could only keep up here for 11 weeks?” Eliott asked.

Yann shook his head. “That’s the shortest amount of time. The longest is… well, until you turn 18, and then you have to go to an adult ward. I don’t know how long she’s going to stay here, but she’s going to be here for a while.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Eliott was, but he really just wanted to be left alone. “What does this have anything to do with me, though?”

“Emma, Lucas, and I have been friends for a long time. Mannon and Daphné have been friends with Emma for about two years. Basile and Arthur have been friends with me and Lucas for about a year. We all know each other here. We all know what’s happened to each other, and we are all here for each other.” Yann made direct eye contact. “You fucked up. And you need to know that everyone here is going to side with Lucas. You don’t fix this, and the next five weeks of your life are going to be hell.”

 

*

 

Eliott was standing at the telephone, holding it but not punching in a number he knew by heart. He took in a deep breath, dialed the number, and held the phone to his ear.

“Salut?” It was a voice that used to make him so happy.

“Salut, Lucille.”

“Eliott?”

“Oui.”

“Oh.” She cleared her throat. “How are you?”

“We need to break up.”

A beat of silence, and then, “What?”

“We need to break up,” he repeated.

“Why?” She even had the audacity to sound confused, so close to tears. “Is this because I haven’t been to visit you? I’ve been busy, this has been… difficult for me.”

“For you?” Eliott let out a bark of a laugh, a sound he didn’t even know he could make. “This is difficult for you? Lucille, I tried to kill myself seven weeks ago. I have been in a hospital for seven weeks. You have no idea how difficult this is.”

“So what? You’re just going to break up with me for something so small?”

“Small?” Eliott repeated. “Non, Lucille. I’m breaking up with you because I don’t love you. I don’t think I ever loved you.” 

He hung up.

 

*

 

Eliott was sat in Dr. Quinn’s office, fidgeting with his fingers. Dr. Quinn was staring at him, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You want to what?”

“I want to paint the group room. I want to paint a mural, in homage to Jackson Pollock. It’ll help with my recovery.” He honestly didn’t know if it would, but he had to try.

“And you want to do this with Lucas?”

Eliott nodded. “I think it might help convince him to forgive me.”

“And not… flowers? Chocolates?”

“You think he’d appreciate chocolates?”

Dr. Quinn acknowledged his response with a raise eyebrow and a nod. “True. I mean… we’ve been meaning to have that room painted for a really long time. And Jackson Pollock is a very good artist.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, but okay. I’ll let you paint the group therapy room.”

 

*

 

The wall was primed, it was ready for new paint. All the furniture had been moved out and plastic sheeting had been laid out to protect the floor. There was a rainbow assortment of paints spread out, almost twenty different colours. All of them, Eliott noticed, nontoxic and safe for skin. He guessed that Dr. Quinn had gone out of his way to buy supplies that wouldn’t cause any long term damage if ingested. He was leaving them alone for an extended period of time. He even let Eliott have the key to the room, making it possible for him to lock it from the inside. If the board found out what he was doing. Dr. Quinn would definitely be fired, so he told Dr. Vann to take the day off. The nurses were all rooting for Eliott and Lucas anyway, so he wasn’t at all worried about them.

“Eliott?”

He turned around to look at Lucas, standing small and pale in front of him. “Salut.”

“What’s all this?” Lucas walked further into the room, looking down at the paints. He didn’t even question it when Eliott went to lock the door behind him. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to paint the wall.”

“We?” Lucas snorted. “Don’t get your hopes up. Dr. Quinn told me that I’d get brownies if I came in here, but I don’t see any brownies.”

“Brownies?”

Lucas blushed slightly. “They’re the only thing I’d eat before. I like chocolate.”

Okay. Maybe the flowers and chocolates would have worked better.

“Well…” Eliott shrugged. “Dr. Quinn told me that we were going to paint this together, so I think we should just get going with it.” He picked up a paintbrush and handed another to Lucas, who took it with a looked of bored disinterest on his face.

“What are we going to do?” Lucas asked with a sigh.

“We’re going to make an homage to Jackson Pollock.”

“Who?”

Eliott blinked. How could be not know who Jackson Pollock was? “The… painter who did all the stripy paintings? The one you asked me about at the museum?”

“Oh.” Lucas shrugged. “How?”

Eliott dipped his paintbrush into the blue paint before expertly flicking his wrist and sending a stripe of paint up the wall. 

“Being an artist is a very woolly thing, isn’t it?”

Eliott smiled at Lucas, who raised an unimpressed eyebrow and dipped his brush into the red, waving it at the wall, half of the paint on his brush hitting the floor and not the wall.

“Well, you failed.”

“No, I didn’t.”

Eliott pointed to the wall. “Yes, you failed, it’s quite obvious.”

“It’s impossible to fail something like this, unless you’re really bad.”

“I didn’t dare say it.”

Lucas looked at him, and Eliott cracked a smile, to show that he was only joking. Lucas looked back at the wall and huffed out a laugh, smiling.

“It’s nice to see you smile,” Eliott said. “I missed it.”

Lucas kept staring at the wall. “Did you make up with your girlfriend? You guys must be happy together.”

Eliott turned bodily to face him. “You can’t say that.”

Lucas turned to face him, too, his face almost blank of emotion, just the smallest amount of sadness peeking through. “Why?”

“Because all of that doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t matter?” Lucas didn’t look like he believed him.

“No.” He took a deep breath in. “Since I met you, you’re the only one that matters.”

Lucas stared at him, a faint spark of hope in his eyes. Eliott turned back to the paints, bent over, dipped his brush into another bucket, and flicked more paint at the wall. He sprayed a bottle of paint up and down in loopy lines along the wall before dropping his brush and turning to look at Lucas. He squared his jaw, as if to take on a challenge, and picked up another brush, flinging paint on the wall. He was soon joined by Eliott, and the wall was slowly becoming a beautiful mess.They stopped for a moment to take in what they had done, and Eliott reached over with his brush and painted a blotch of dark paint onto the side of Lucas nose.

Lucas laughed in shock. “Are you serious?” He flicked his paintbrush at Eliott’s face.

Eliott bent over to dip his hands in different buckets of paint, Lucas soon following him to do the same. They were laughing, poking and hitting at each other with paint covered hands, smearing colours onto the others skin and clothes. They picked up the squeeze bottles of paint and started to attack each other with those, too, Elliot laughing when he felt cold paint begin to drip down under his shirt. They dropped their artistic weapons and stood, laughing and looking, taking the other in.

It was like they had magnets in their skin, drawing one to the other. Eliott let Lucas come to him, let the short boy take control of the situation. They kissed, more intense than ever before, open mouthed and hot and sloppy, but they didn’t want to stop. Eliott’s hands cupped Lucas’s cheeks, Lucas’ hands were around his waist. They smeared paint against each others faces, pulling the other closer, closer, closer.

Shirts were the first thing to come off, Lucas’ and then Eliott’s. Eliott took a small moment to appreciate him, the skin that was slowly filling in around his ribs, the smooth expanse of his chest no longer bowed in at his sternum. He ran a hand down Lucas’ chest, feeling his pectoral muscles under his skin, strong and firm. He gently pushed him against the still wet wall, leaning down to kiss his neck, feeling Lucas’ breath shudder, hearing it catch in his throat. Lucas was the first to shove down his pants, Eliott’s following close behind. He pressed against Lucas’ body, feeling every hard angle once again, but he was softer this time, had more of a give. Lucas gasped at the sensation, his hands sliding up to fist in Eliott’s hair, then slowly, slowly, drift down his body, painting faint lines down his back, across his ass.

Lucas flipped them, pushing Eliott up against the wall, reaching down between his legs with a paint stained hand. They both gasped into each others mouths, breathing the same air, trading longing glances in the fading sun that came filtering softly through the window. They paused for a moment, looking at each other, really taking the other in, before coming back together, an unstoppable force of beauty and pain.

 


	9. Week 8

Eliott woke up hungry and sticky. It was a strange combination of feelings, but not unexpected. He and Lucas had showered after their unplanned paint fight, after they had finished painting the wall, and had fallen into his bed, only slightly less covered in paint than before. He stretched his arms above his head, smiling slightly as Lucas, curled up against his side, grumbled angrily in his sleep, not wanting to be disturbed. 

“Hey,” Eliott whispered, shaking him slightly. 

It was an experience, going from only ever seeing Lucas bundled up in sweatshirts and sweatpants, to seeing him completely naked in a good way. The curves and angles of Lucas’ body were too stark and stood out in too sharp a contrast, but even Eliott could see the progress he was making. The shadows under his eyes were fading away, the outline of each rib slowly but surely being smudged.

“Hey.”

“What?” Lucas mumbled, eyes scrunching as he lifted a hand to rub his face. 

“It’s time for-”

“You say breakfast and I’ll shove you out of this bed.”

Eliott chuckled. “But it is.”

Lucas sighed. “I know.” He opened his eyes and blinked at Eliott. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m hungry.” He looked at Eliott with wide eyes. “What happened with your girlfriend?”

“I broke up with her.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

Lucas nodded. “Good. Let’s go to breakfast.”

They both stood and got dressed, trying to hide as much of the paint as they could. Just as Eliott was going to pull open the door, there was a knock. Frowning, he pulled the door forward and revealed Dr. Quinn, looking a mix of ecstatic and freaked out. He sighed and relaxed when he saw Lucas behind Eliott.

“Good, you’re here.” He smiled widely at the two of them. “Oh, boys, I love the mural. It’s absolutely gorgeous.” He clapped and bounced on his feet, totally out of character. “The board is going to love it, too.” He placed a hand each of their shoulders and pulled them out of the room. “Come on, now, it’s time to eat!”

He even let them sit by themselves, though he did sit a short distance away and kept an ever vigilant eye on Lucas.

“What even is this?” Lucas asked Eliott, frowning down at his plate. 

Thick slices of eggy and cinnamony bread were piled up, three pieces for each patient.

“Eggy bread?” Eliott suggested. “It’s sweet and not too bad.”

Lucas looked over to the menu, still confused. “It says it’s… French toast? How can toast be French?” He looked back down to his food and sighed. 

“I think it’s American?” Eliott said.

“American’s can bite my ass.” Lucas picked up his knife and started to cut into he first slice, sniffing it before putting it into his mouth and chewing, a disgusted look spreading across his face. “This is… horrible. Genuinely horrible.”

Eliott laughed, ducking his head. “It’s not too bad. Try it with the, uh…” He picked up the bottle of whatever it was in front of him. “Maple syrup.”

“Fucking Americans.” Lucas poured a small patch of syrup on his plate, or at least he tried to. Not expecting the runny consistency, his plate was soon flooded. “Ah!”

Leaning back, Eliott laughed again, his sides beginning to hurt. 

“Stop laughing!” Lucas said, beginning to chuckle. “It’s not funny!”

But he couldn’t stop. It was like something had taken root inside his chest, lifting everything up and making him feel so much fucking better about everything. His chuckles petered out eventually, and he watched as Lucas shook his head, taking another small bite of his food.

“Okay, this isn’t much better, but it’s better.” Lucas dug into the rest of his food, soon complaining about how sticky his knife was. “I don’t like this experience.”

“You’re almost done,” Eliott said, reaching a hand for Lucas’ not sticky one. “You can do it.”

With an almost triumphant smile, Lucas did. He finished his plate and pushed it safely to the side.

“Good job!” Eliott said, smiling.

“Don’t patronize me.” Lucas was still smiling though, and he didn’t mean it in a harsh way. “Please.”

“I wasn’t meaning to.” Eliott leaned in. “I’m sorry.”

Lucas leaned in, too. “I forgive you.”

“You know what though?”

“Hmm?”

“Watching you eat?” Lucas blinked, not at all knowing where this was going. “It was kind of sexy.”

Snorting, Lucas ducked his head, blushing to the tips of his ears. “Eliott, shut up.”

Shaking his head, Eliott lowered his voice to a teasing whisper. “All I could think about, watching you swallow, was you with your mouth around my-”

Lucas burst out into cackles, leaning away from him, his face completely red. “Sh-shut up!” He held his stomach, chuckling when he noticed everyone’s eyes on them. “Désolé.”

They all looked away.

Eliott leaned back, too, toeing his shoe off under the table and raising it to run softly up Lucas’ calf, gently stroking the inside of Lucas’ thigh.

“Stop,” Lucas whispered, almost like he didn’t want to. “Eliott.”

Biting his lip, Eliott slid down in his chair and pressed his foot to Lucas’ crotch with just enough pressure to make Lucas have to swallow a moan. Eliott looked around, making sure that no one was watching them, noticing that Dr.’s Vann and Quinn were in some sort of deep conversation. He started to move his foot, eyes flicking back to Lucas as he leaned forward, creating a small area of separation between him and Eliott’s offending extremity. Eliott only had to straighten out his leg, though, and they were back to square one. Lucas was going red again, his breathing speeding up, his legs shifting ever so slightly apart. Eliott stroked his foot up and down, feeling Lucas growing hard in his sweatpants. He watched with an immense amount of satisfaction as Lucas put his hand over his mouth, resting his elbow on the table to try to look nonchalant, only to cover the small noises that were starting to spill from his lips. Eliott arched his foot, pressing just hard enough down onto Lucas that he could see the other boy start to shake. Eliott could feel himself start to grow hard, too, but he just shifted his sweatshirt down, covering up the growing bulge in his jeans, and continued on with his work. Lucas was shuddering, almost unnoticeable if you weren’t looking for it, and Eliott knew this was going to be over soon. Should he let it? Or should he stop and let Lucas deal with it himself? In his momentary distraction, trying to figure out what to do, Lucas slammed his fist none too gently on the table. It took Eliott a minute to figure out what had happened, but a sudden warm wetness was seeping through Lucas’ sweatpants and into his sock, and Eliott had to stop himself from laughing. Good thing he was wearing black.

“Are you okay?”

They both looked up to see Dr. Quinn standing over them. 

“Why did you just punch the table?” he asked, frowning with concern at Lucas’ flushed face.

“I…” Lucas started. “Just hate French toast.”

Dr. Quinn sighed, sitting next to Eliott and leaning across the table to talk in a hushed tone. “I know that this is hard, but you can’t not eat something just because you don’t like it. If you’re allergic, then yes, we’ll make you something else, but you have to eat whatever is give to you.”

Lucas nodded, smiling through thin lips, trying very hard to control his breathing.

Eliott moved his foot away, slipping it silently back into his shoe, still smiling at Lucas.

“Okay,” Dr. Quinn said, standing. “Come on, you two, time for group.”

“Can I go to the bathroom first?” Lucas asked.

“You know the rules, Lucas.” Dr. Quinn shook his head. “No bathroom for the half hour after meals.”

“But I really need to pee.”

“You’ll just have to hold it.”

“I can take him,” Eliott suggested. “I need to go as well.”

“Non,” Dr. Quinn said. “Both of you, group, now.”

 

*

 

Eliott took immense pleasure at the fact that Lucas had to sit through group in his own wetness, feeling himself getting hard again at the thought.

He knew that something was going on, really, he did. He knew that this level of sexual frustration didn’t just happen, but he couldn’t say anything at group without sounding like a moron. He couldn’t say, when it was his turn to speak, that he was so fucking horny today, because they would all look at him in shock. Well, maybe not Lucas, but Lucas would look way with a blush. The reason they’d both wanted to leave would be exposed to Dr. Quinn and they would most certainly get into trouble, opening themselves up to exposure the way that they did. There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that maybe he’d forced the situation onto Lucas, he had pulled away at first, but Lucas had held his hand tightly on the walk over and he could have stopped Eliott if he really wanted to. Eliott wasn’t so far gone that he wouldn’t have stopped.

When group was over it was time for lunch, but once again Dr. Quinn didn’t let them leave.

“You have a free hour after lunch, go during your half hour,” Dr. Quinn said.

“I genuinely might piss myself,” Lucas complained.

With a sigh, Dr. Quinn pointed for him to lead the way to the bathroom. “Go on. I’ll be right outside the stall.”

Lucas looked like he was going to murder a bitch, but he sighed and walked away, stopping only when Eliott pulled him close and whispered ever so quietly in his ear, “Don’t clean up, I want to do that later.”

When Lucas was back and they sat to eat their lunch, Arthur, Yann, and Basile sat with them, chatting happily away about nothing.

“So, you two are friends again?” Yann asked.

“Oui,” Lucas said, smiling slyly at Eliott. “Though, he is being a bit bothersome today.”

“How so?” Arthur asked.

Eliott smirked across the table. 

“He’s just… being naughty,” Lucas explained. “And that’s all I’m going to saw.”

Basile looked between them with raised eyebrows, but didn’t push the matter.

Lunch that day was some kind of soup with a lot of vegetables in it. Lucas wrinkled his nose and started to pick out the floating pieces of tomato, but Yann slapped the back of his hand.

“Just eat it, Lucas,” he said, authoritative best friend voice in full affect.

“But…” Lucas scowled, scooping the tomatoes back into his soup and starting to eat it, mumbling between mouthfuls about how he hated the offending vegetable.

“Is tomato a vegetable?” Yann asked. “I thought it was a fruit.”

“It is a -  _ shit _ \- fruit.” Arthur shook his head and clapped his hands, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck when his tick was over. “Okay, that one hurt.”

“I don’t like it either way,” Lucas grumbled.

“What vegetables do you like?” Basile asked, spooning himself some of his soup. He was doing well with the new bowl, it seemed, and he even had whole new cutlery today. He wasn’t even wearing his gloves.

Lucas stopped to think. “I like carrots. And beans? Broccoli.”

“What about courgettes?” Eliott asked. “Aubergine? Corn on the cob, asparagus?”

Narrowing his eyes, Lucas nodded. “I do like those, why?”

“Oh, nothing,” Eliott said, faking innocence.

But Yann snorted and almost spilled his soup. “All the ones that are shaped like dicks?”

Lucas’ eyes grew wide and he threw a scrunched up napkin at Eliott. “You fucking piece of shit!” He laughed along with the others, though, so he couldn’t have been too offended.

When they were done eating, and when the half hour was up and Lucas could be left to his own devices, Eliott practically dragged him from the room, smiling as he did.

“You need some new underwear,” Eliott said, as if that explained everything.

He pulled them into Lucas’ room, closing the door and moving Lucas’ desk chair in front of it to stop people from coming in, or at least slowing them down when they tried. Lucas stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, an annoyed expression on his face. He honestly didn’t know what to make of Eliott’s behaviour that day, but before he could say anything about it, Eliott was on his knees in front of him, pulling down his sweatpants and his boxer shorts. His mouth was on him in seconds, licking at the skin softly, kissing his thighs. He took Lucas’ dick into his mouth and felt Lucas’ hands go to his hair, a faint moan slipping from his lips, the vibration causing Lucas to moan in response. Eliott’s tongue flattened out along the underside of Lucas’ hard prick, and when he moved up to the swollen head, Eliott swirled his tongue around, sliding along the slit and teasing out the first drop of precum, feeling the other boys thighs quivering. He plunged back down taking all of Lucas down, the tip of his dick pressing against the back of his throat. Lucas reached behind him for the support of his desk, shuffling back slightly to rest his ass against the warm wood. Eliott followed him, hollowing his cheeks and sucking as if Lucas was the best thing he’d ever taste. And he was! Holy shit, Eliott knew a dick should never taste this good, but it did.

Lucas gave his hair a sharp tug, his breathing rapid and shallow. “Eliott… I’m gonna cum…”

Eliott pulled back to the head of his dick one more time before swallowing him up again, tapping Lucas’ thighs gently to let him know it was okay. He bobbed his head and swirled his tongue a few more times before his mouth was flooded with a salty sweet explosion. He felt it hit the back of his throat and nearly gagged from the feeling, but he kept himself composed. He didn’t want Lucas’ first experience with a blow job to end in vomiting.

He pulled away a little too soon and got a shot of cum across his mouth, and he sat back in shock for a moment, feeling it dribble down his chin. He made direct eye contact with Lucas, who was flushed and out of breath, and swallowed.

“Putain…” Lucas whispered, slowly sinking to sit with his back against the desk, his legs spread around Eliott, his bare ass on the floor. 

Eliott ran a hand over his chin to clean up the rest of the cum, sucking his fingers clean and leaning in to kiss Lucas. Hot and wanting mouths found the other, hands coming to grasp hair and shoulders and forearms, panting breaths into each other’s air. Lucas’ hands found their way to Eliott’s jeans, pulling down the zipper and undoing the button. Eliott kneeled slightly so Lucas could push his pants down, freeing his throbbing dick, and then sat down again in between Lucas legs. Lucas wrapped a hand around him, thumbing up over the head and smearing the precum there down the rest of his dick. Lucas pulled away from the kiss for a moment and looked down at his hand.

“I know I saw it last night,” he said, his voice rough and low. “But I honestly have never seen a circumcised dick before.”

“Have you seen many dicks?” Eliott asked, almost sarcastically but just as curious, his breath coming in pants, his face pressed against Lucas’ neck. He bucked his hips, galvanizing Lucas to start moving his hand again.

“I’ve seen a fair few.” He moaned as Eliott gently bit the soft skin of his neck. “Locker rooms and after gym showers.”

Eliott moaned, Lucas’ hand starting to move faster, feeling the swell of Eliott’s dick in his palm, knowing the older boy was going to cum soon.

“You know how it is,” Lucas said, his voice slipping lower and lower. “All those bodies, soapy and wet, cleaning after a long, hard work out. I realised I was gay in a locker room shower. I got hard, looking at all those beautiful bodies, and couldn’t make it go away, not until everyone else had left and I jerked myself off. I even slipped a few fingers into my ass, just to see how it would feel.”

“Putain…” Eliott groaned, hands grasping Lucas’ hips. “I want to fuck you so bad, Lucas…”

Lucas chuckled, burying his face into Eliott’s neck. “Soon, Eliott. But not just yet.” 

With another twist of his hand at the head of Eliott’s dick, he was cumming, moaning loudly into Lucas’ shoulder. Spurts of cum landed on Lucas’ hand and wrist, Eliott’s thighs. Lucas rested his head back against the desk drawers, smiling with a sort of pride, and Eliott sat up straighter, panting.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Eliott said, smiling.

“So are you.”

Eliott leaned forward and kissed him, lacking no energy and wasting no time, pulling Lucas into his lap and reaching his hands down to grip his ass.

“Eliott,” Lucas moaned. “Eliott, we need to go to art…”

“Fuck art,” Eliott growled, moving down to nibble and suck on Lucas’ neck.

Lucas let out a gasp as one of Eliott’s fingers rubbed insistently against his asshole, and he bucked into Eliott’s lap, the awkwardness of the position becoming known to both of them at that moment. Lucas’ sweatpants and boxers were still around his knees, now pressing uncomfortably against Eliott’s groin. They pulled apart reluctantly, Lucas pulling himself up with the use of his desk, holding his hand out for Eliott to grasp. Once they were both stood, Eliott’s hands moved to his thighs, picking him up and depositing him on top of the desk before kneeling and tugging off Lucas’ shoes and socks, closely followed by his pants and underwear.

“Eliott,” Lucas said again, more firmly this time. “We need to go. Someone will come looking for us and I don’t want to get either of us kicked out.”

Eliott groaned and sat down almost harshly, his forearms resting on his knees. He did feel a little ridiculous, sitting with his jeans and his boxers halfway down his thighs, his ass pressed against the linoleum, but he was also heavily motivated by the throbbing between his legs. Lucas looked so delicious, sitting up on the desk, his legs spread wide.

“Please?” Eliott asked, sounding just as desperate as he felt.

Lucas hopped down and knelt in front of him. “Tonight. Come back to my room, and we’ll finish where we left off, yeah?” His pupils were wide, just like Eliott’s, his eyes just as dark. “But we have to go.”

 

*

 

Eliott had to sit through therapy with Dr. Quinn first. It was awkward, to say the least.

“I know that something happened between you and Lucas at breakfast, and I know that you snuck off together after lunch. I don’t want to know what it was, unless something happened that pertains to your mental health.”

Eliott sucked in a breath, frustrated that he had to be there and frustrated that he was about to saw what he was about to say.

“I’m really fucking horny,” he blurted, and he almost laughed as Dr. Quinn’s eyes grew wide. “You said not to tell you if it didn’t pertain, and what we did doesn’t, but the reason behind it does. I’m so, so fucking horny right now, and Lucas and I already-”

“Ah!” Dr. Quinn held up a hand. “The less I know the better. Why do you think that this is important enough to bring up?”

“Because I don’t get this way,” Eliott explained, running a hand through his hair. “Yes, there are times when I want sex, and yes, there are times when I really want sex, but this? This is like my sex drive is on fucking steroids or something. I know I’ve gotten like this before. I know that when I was dating my girlfriend, there were times that I was almost insatiable. I just kept wanted to have sex. At some point, she wanted to stop, so we’d have to stop, but I wouldn’t want to. And after that, I would get so depressed.”

Dr. Quinn nodded and breathed out heavily through his nose. “Okay. This can be a symptom of bipolar disorder. The hypersexualization. It’s not a bad thing, but is showing us that you’re medication might not be strong enough. Have you experienced any other symptoms? Other than the sexual frustration and the bouts of depression?”

Eliott shrugged. “I’ve been quick to get angry?”

“No hallucinations, fugue states, delusions?”

“Hah?” Eliott shook his head. “Non, not at all.”

Dr. Quinn nodded, scribbling his words down. “Good. That would suggest psychosis, but it doesn’t seem like it right now.” He looked up at Eliott. “The moment something like that happens, if it does, you need to tell me.”

Elliot nodded. “I will.” He looked down at his hands. “So… what should I do? You’re changing my medication tomorrow, but for now?” He smiled to himself. “Can I go see Lucas?”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” He pulled open a drawer and pulled out a pill bottle and a tiny paper cup. He tipped two pills into the cup and handed it to Eliott with a small bottle of water. “Take these. They’re sedatives.” He held up a hand before Eliott could protest. “I know you don’t want to take them, Eliott, but I want you to take them. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to just wait it out, and these will start taking effect within 15 minutes.”

Eliott took the cup and the water, begrudgingly taking the pills in one swallow.

“You can go spend time with Lucas, but refrain from any sexual activity.”

Eliott nodded and stood, walking to the door and leaving, pulling it closed behind him. He was at Lucas’ door when he felt everything go fuzzy around the edges. He blinked slowly and rolled his eyes, knocking a sluggish thump on the door.

Lucas appeared in front of him, smiling widely and reaching for him. He pushed Eliott against the wall inside the room and closed the door, pressing against him and kissing him. Eliott’s hands went sluggishly to Lucas’ waist, pulling him closer but he couldn’t seem to get his body to react the way it did before. Lucas pulled away, frowning with concern, and rested his forehead against Eliott’s. When had he gotten that tall? Eliott realised he was leaning over.

“Are you okay?” Lucas whispered.

“Dr. Quinn gave me some pills,” Eliott responded, his voice louder than he meant it to be. “Some sedatives.”

“What?” Lucas pulled away. “Why?”

“Because I guess the way I’m feeling is a symptom of my bipolar.”

Lucas’ eyes flicked back and forth between the two of his. “You feelings… for me?”

“Non!” Eliott pulled Lucas to his chest, wrapping him up in his arms. “Not my feelings for you. The… sex, the amount that I’ve wanted it, that’s what I meant.”

“You… don’t want to have sex with me?”

“Of course I want to have sex with you.” Eliott kissed the top of his head. “I love you. I want to have sex with you.”

“So, what’s the symptom?”

“The amount of sex I’ve wanted today.” Eliott pulled away slightly, nudging their noses together. “The…. insatiableness of my wanting, my needing it, I guess.”

“But you still want to fuck me?”

“Yes.”

Lucas kissed him. “Then fuck me.” He started to tug him to the bed, but Eliott stopped him. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t keep my mind on one thing, I don’t think I’ll be able to.” He blushed. “I don’t think I can… you know… get it up.”

Lucas chuckled, pulling him close again. “That’s okay. Another time?”

“This ‘another time’ is going to be so full of talk, I don’t know if we’ll have room for fucking.”

“Huh?” Lucas laid down on the bed, holding up the duvet for Eliott to slip under it. “What do you mean?”

“Whenever we don’t talk about something, we say ‘A story for another time’. Remember?”

“I think?”

“Maybe we should fuck some other time, and then we’ll have time for it.” Eliott was rambling and he knew it. “Some other time is good for me.”

Lucas laughed, wrapping his arms around Eliott, pulling him closer and kissing his cheek. “Okay. Some other time.”


	10. Week 9

Some other time wasn’t scheduled, it just kind of happened. It was late, they were both tired, curled up in Eliott’s bed, but they were happy. The air was charged between them, and Lucas was the one to bridge the gap and kiss Eliott. It was soft and slow, not needing anything more than the kiss, but not pushing more away, either. They laid like that, tangled in each other’s arms and legs, for some time. They kissed, they kissed, they kissed.

Again, it was Lucas to move forward, his hand slipping ever so gently down Eliott’s back and up under his sleep shirt, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingers. Eliott took in a deep breath through his nose, pressing against Lucas’ lips, their mouths opening, tongue lolling against tongue. Lucas knew what he was doing, knew what he wanted, and Eliott was more than happy to give it to him. Eliott’s shirt was the first item of clothing to be removed, slowly followed by Lucas’. Eliott pulled away from his lips to drag kisses down his body, worshiping the skin under his tongue. He lavished each nipple, sucking until each was hard and his skin was pebbled with goose bumps, until Lucas’ breath was coming in pants, his hard dick pressed up against Eliott’s hip. Eliott continued his path down kissing and nipping at his stomach, kissing right below his belly button, feeling Lucas’ shudder. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Lucas’ boxers and slowly pulled them down.

“Eliott…” Lucas sighed, his hand moving to run through Eliott’s messy locks. 

With a smile, Eliott took him into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head of Lucas’ dick. He bobbed his head for a moment before taking all of Lucas in his mouth, a tingle running down his spine when he heard Lucas let out a quiet moan. He wanted to know what he sounded like when they didn’t have to be quiet.

Eliott pulled up, lavishing the head of Lucas’ prick again, before crawling back up to kiss the other boy.

“I want you inside me,” Lucas whispered, panting, reaching down to slip his hand into the front of Eliott’s boxers. “Please.”

“We don’t have anything,” Eliott said, burying his face in Lucas’ neck, kissing him there and biting down gently, just hard enough to leave a mark. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

Eliott pulled away, raising an eyebrow. “I won’t hurt you going in dry? Lucas, that’s going to hurt a lot.”

Lucas sighed but agreed. “What should we do then?”

Pursing his lips, Eliott thought. A smile spread on his lips after a moment, and he tapped Lucas’ hips. “Roll over.”

Doing as he was told, Lucas moved a pillow down and placed it under his hips, knowing exactly what was to come. He gasped, covering his own mouth, when Eliott spread his cheeks and licked a hot stripe over his hole. He was shaking, the more Eliott’s talented tongue pulled him apart, the more he wanted to scream. Eliott plunged his tongue inside him, licking his walls, and Lucas pressed his ass back against the older boys face, burying his head in his pillow and letting out a strangled moan. Eliott reached up and ran a hand over Lucas’ back, as if to comfort him, gentle and kind. Lucas took the hand and started to kiss his fingers, sucking them into his mouth, his tongue rolling between his knuckles. Eliott started to rut against the mattress to relieve some of the pressure in his groin. 

When Lucas let go of his hand, Eliott brought it down to his face level and added them, one by one, next to his tongue. Lucas was squirming under him, feeling the stretch of Eliott’s fingers inside him.

“Eliott, please,” he gasped. “Im ready, I’m ready.”

Eliott took his fingers out and slipped out of his boxers, tugging himself a few times to spread Lucas’ spit over himself. Lucas flipped over, keeping the pillow beneath his hips, and watched with dark eyes as Eliott touched himself. Eliott lined himself up, kneeling over Lucas, and was just about to press in when he paused.

“What is it?” Lucas asked, propping himself up on his elbows. “Eliott?”

“We don’t have condoms,” Eliott said.

“I’m clean,” Lucas said, bringing up  a hand to trace down Eliott’s chest. “I got tested two weeks before I got here, I’m all clean.”

“Me, too, but… that isn’t the only concern here.” He sighed. “No condoms means no other partners. Ever.”

“I know.” Lucas smiled. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“Really?” Eliott sounded hopeful.

“Really.” Lucas pulled him down into a kiss. “Now get in me, Eliott. Please.”

Eliott chuckled slightly, nodding. He lined himself up again, pressing in carefully, slowly, watching for any sign of discomfort from Lucas. He kept going until their hips were flush, and he stayed there, letting Lucas get adjusted. Lucas had thrown his head back with a gasp, his hand on Eliott’s shoulder clamping down almost painfully. 

“Move,” Lucas whispered. “God, please move.”

Eliott slowly rolled his hips, closing his eyes with the pleasure of it all. He leaned down and pressed his face back into Lucas’ neck, feeling the smaller boy wrap his legs around his hips, his heels digging into the small of Eliott’s back. He started to rock his hips, getting a startled gasp from Lucas. Eliott was extremely proud of himself. The heat and tightness around him was heavenly, and all he wanted to do was move, but he kept himself slow and gentle, for Lucas.

“Faster,” Lucas panted.

He sped up his thrusts, feeling himself slide in and almost all the way out of Lucas before snapping back in. Lucas was biting the back of his fist to stop himself from being too loud, but Eliott could hear the gasps and moans escaping his throat. He shifted his hips slightly and thrust back in once more, and he must have done something right, because Lucas let out a loud, long moan, hands flying up to hold the headboard behind them. He groaned, feeling Eliott hit his prostate again and again, a fizzy feeling filling his whole body. He was so close.

“I’m gonna cum…” he panted, still trying to be quiet.

“Cum for me,” Eliott whispered, a hand reaching between then to close around Lucas’ dick.

He pumped his fist a few times, feeling the precum leaking from the head of his cock, making a small pool in the divets of Lucas’ stomach. It didn’t take long before Lucas was shoving his fist back into his mouth, biting down hard enough to break the skin and draw blood, cum spurting hotly between them. Eliott started to pull away, to pull out, but Lucas locked his ankles behind Eliott, pulling him back in.

“Cum inside me,” Lucas whispered, his words causing Eliott to moan into his neck. “I want to feel you.”

A few more thrusts sent Eliott over the edge, spilling hot and thick inside of Lucas, who gasped at the heat squirting into him. They lay like that for a few minutes, until things started to get sticky and uncomfortable. Eliott’s limp dick slipped out of Lucas as he pulled away, flopping onto his side next to Lucas, panting.

“That was amazing,” Lucas whispered, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“Hey, no,” Eliott said, raising a hand to his cheek. “Don’t cry. What’s wrong?”

“No one has ever loved me this much.” Lucas smiled, watery but happy. “I’ve never had sex that soft before.”

Eliott kissed his forehead. “I love you, Lucas.”

“I love you, too, Eliott.”

They laid there for a few more minutes, until Eliott pulled away again. “We should probably clean up.”

Lucas nodded, pushing himself up on his elbows. They both stood, Eliott going to his chest of drawers, where he kept his towels, bending over to grab one to clean them up when he heard Lucas gasp. He turned around, but when he saw nothing to gasp about, he frowned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, walking to him.

“Nothing, I just… I’ve never felt it come out before. I’ve never had sex without a condom.” He giggled slightly. “It’s still warm.”

It took Eliott a moment to realise what he was talking about. Blushing, he slowly turned Lucas around, looking down at his ass, his belly stirring as he watched his own cum dribbling down Lucas’ legs. He knelt down, bringing Lucas to his face, his mouth going to his sensitive hole, kindly running the flat of his tongue over it. Lucas reached behind and buried his hand into Eliott’s hair, humming a pleased tone low in his chest. Eliott’s head was swimming, tasting himself and Lucas at the same time, a hand slipping up between his legs to spread the a little further. He was soft, licking and kissing the abused rim, his tongue slipping inside from time to time, Lucas sighing and moaning quietly with each movement. Eliott gasped when Lucas’ hold in his hair tightened suddenly, and his hips canted back against his face. Lucas let out a shudder, and Eliott realised he was cumming again, squirting onto the floor. 

Turning around, Lucas knelt to sit in front on Eliott, blushing slightly.

“That was a little embarrassing,” he chuckled.

“Why?” Eliott asked, blinking a few times, still dazed.

“I didn’t even touch myself that time.” Lucas shrugged, looking down. He raised his brows at Eliott’s hard on, smiling slightly before pushing him back onto his ass and grabbing Eliott’s knees to pull them apart. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Eliott moaned, really a lot louder than he should, when his dick was engulfed in a tight warmth once again. Lucas was a little under experienced, but that didn’t matter to Eliott. He bobbed his head, jerking what he couldn’t fit into his mouth with his hand. Just like Lucas, it didn’t take Eliott long to cum again, his only warning a small noise that he would adamantly deny on a future date. Lucas kept sucking him through it, his mouth around the head of Eliott’s dick. He sat back, his lips closed tightly, and he looked around a little frantically. Eliott handed him the towel, and Lucas spit out his mouthful of cum, looking embarrassed again.

“Désolé.”

“Why?” Eliott sat up again, pulling Lucas close to him. “You don’t have to be sorry about anything.”

“My… my last boyfriend would always want me to swallow, but I kind of hate the taste of it.” Lucas chuckled. “Though, you taste better than he ever did.”

Eliott snorted. “Thank you?”

Lucas smiled. “You’re a lot better than him in a lot of respects. You care, and you listened. Thank you.”

Eliott’s heart clenched. Who in their right mind would hurt Lucas? “You don’t have to thank me for basic human decency.”

“But I do.” Lucas pulled him closer again for another soft, gently kiss.

 

*

 

Mannon found them curled up in Eliott’s bed the next day, and she smiled. They were so cute together.

She walked further into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed and shaking Lucas’ shoulder. When he grumbled, waking slowly, she noticed the myriad of bite marks littered over his body, and she repressed a giggle. He startled slightly when he noticed it was her, but she smiled at him and he relaxed.

“Mika and Lisa are here again,” she said. “They have the paperwork for you to fill out, to move in. If you still want to.”

“Oui,” Lucas whispered, turning to look at Eliott, who was still asleep by his side. “Just give me a moment to wake him up and get dress?”

“Of course.” Mannon stood. “I’ll wait outside.”

As she left, Lucas shook Eliott awake, the older boy scrunching his eyes in a last attempt to chase sleep, but it was too late. He blinked a few times, eyes coming to rest on Lucas, and he smiled. 

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“Good morning to you, too,” Lucas whispered back, leaning down to kiss him. “Mika and Lisa are back with the paperwork. You want to come meet them?”

Eliott had decided to wait Mannon’s family, just so that Lucas could make an impression on his own. It seemed to be going over well, with only one or two hiccups along the way. Mika had almost turned him down, stating he couldn’t take someone in who didn’t have a job, but had Lucas promised to start apply to jobs as soon as he got out of the hospital. Mika couldn’t say no to Lucas’ puppy dog eyes forever, and he melted almost instantly.

“I would love to meet them,” Eliott said. “Let’s get dressed.”

Lucas smiled and pulled himself out of bed, dragging on his jeans from the night before and one of Eliott’s tee-shirts. He had taken to letting his arms show recently, becoming more and more proud of his body as the days went on. He was getting special lessons from a fitness coach in the hospital to figure out how to exercise healthily, and he was building muscle mass as well as body fat.

Eliott couldn’t have been prouder.

 

*

 

Mika and Lisa sort of both looked like they could be Mannon’s parents, if they were both twenty years older. Eliott had blushed under Mika’s gaze when he first stepped into the room. He knew that he was a handsome guy, but the heated look he got from the older man was intense, to say the least. When Lucas introduced him, though, the look was gone, and Mika was just ecstatic to be meeting Lucas’ boyfriend. They fell into an easy conversation, chatting for a short while before Mika pulled out the papers for Lucas to sign.

“Are you excited?” Lisa asked.

Lucas smiled and nodded. “I’m very excited.”

“What are you going to say to your parents?” Mika asked, leaning back in the sofa. “About moving out?”

“If they even noticed that I’ve been gone,” Lucas said, taking in a deep breath. “I’m going to tell them that I’m moving in with friends to be closer to school. And that my therapist thinks it would be good for me to go out on my own.”

“Does he?” Mannon asked.

“Oui.” Lucas smiled. “He knows that my problems are rooted in my parents, so he thinks some separation from them would do me some good.”

“And what about you?” Mika asked, looking at Eliott. “Are you moving in with him?”

“Non,” Lucas said, turning to take his hand. “Eliott and I have talked about it, and we agree that it would probably be best for ourselves and for each other if we have places to go to be apart. Sometimes we both need to be on our own.”

“Will you ever move in together?” Mika wondered, smiling at them.

“Some day,” Eliott said, smiling. “But not yet. We’ve only known each other for eight and a half weeks, after all.”

Lucas smiled widely. “But we will definitely move in at some point.”

Eliott heard the door open behind them and the intake nurse directing someone in. Lucas’ eyes drifted behind him, his smile dropping and his grip on Eliott’s hand tightening. Turning around, Eliott saw a man, tall and slender, a few years older than him, dressed in a neat suit. He looked like some kind of banker, young as he was. He had an air about him, something that told Eliott that he shouldn’t be trusted. That and the now painful squeeze of Lucas’ hand. The man looked over, a smirk gracing his face, and Eliott thought that he looked slimy and ugly, as handsome as he actually was.

“Salut, Lucas,” he spoke, his voice honey over rusty nails. “It’s been a while.”

By the frightened look on Lucas’ face, Eliott gathered that this was his ex-boyfriend, the man who had been Lucas’ first time, Lucas’ first everything. The man who had reduced him to a ball of anxiety and anger. The man who had used and abused him. 

Hot rage rose in Eliott’s stomach, his jaw clenching, but he didn’t say anything, knowing that Lucas wouldn’t like it if he did.

Mika stood, picking up on the tension that suddenly flooded the room. He held out his hand in greeting, discreetly placing himself between the older man and Lucas and Eliott. “Salut. I’m Mika, a friend of Lucas. Who are you?”

“I’m Royal,” he said, not removing his hands from his pockets. “Lucas’ boyfriend.”

“Ex,” Lucas croaked.

The man, Royal, snorted. “Right. Because that lasted long before.” He eyed Eliott up and down, making Eliott feel slimy. “Nice. How long as you planning on being with this one?”

Eliott thought he might break a tooth with how tightly his jaw was clenched. Lucas placed his other hand on top of theirs, trying to sooth him at the same as get comfort from him. Lisa stood and switched to sit next to Lucas, taking up the only free space on the sofa. Mannon took the armchair next to them, leaving only the sofa across from them, separated by a coffee table, available for Royal to sit. Eliott would have smiled, seeing Lucas’ friends, some of them brand new, moving to protect him, but he couldn’t. Not with the smarmy asshole right in front of him.

Royal sighed and took a seat in the middle of the sofa, spreading his legs as if to deter Mika from sitting, but the young man did anyway. It caused Royal to have to move over, and he looked angry at the disturbance. Eliott wanted to laugh in his face. No one was taking his shit today. 

“What are you doing here?” Lucas asked, his voice quiet but solid. He hadn’t let go of Eliott’s hand.

“I came to visit, to see how you were doing.” He smirked again. “I ran into your father in the courthouse. Your parents are getting divorced, did you know?”

Lucas hadn’t, but he didn’t let it show.

“Your father is getting full custody, as well.” Royal straightened his tie. “I got to sit in on the case, being an intern and all. He managed to convince the court of your mothers instability. He explained, calmly and clearly, that she was unsuited to be a mother, having left you to your own devices and fail to commit suicide. If he had been there, he assured the judge, you wouldn’t have slipped so far into insanity.”

“I’m not insane,” Lucas snapped, surprising Royal. “And that’s a bold faced lie. He was there when it happened.”

“Because the judge will care about that. Your mother was proven to be unstable, she’s been locked up in a clinic somewhere south of Paris.” His lip curled up. “Seems to run in the family.” His eyes flicked to the scars on the insides of Lucas’ wrists. “It would have worked if you cut deeper. You didn’t even nick an artery.”

“Shut up,” Eliott snarled.

“Oh, and he speaks.” Royal laughed. “You think he’s going to stay with you? You think he’s going to love you? He can’t. He’ll never love someone the way he loves me, so you can just fuck off, kid.”

“Leave him alone.” Lucas’ voice was shaking with fury. “You need to go, Royal. Get out of the ward and out of my life.”

“You think it’s that easy?” Royal asked, raising a condescending eyebrow. “You owe me your life, Lucas. I got you out of that hell hole you called a house. I got you-”

“You made me hate myself!” Lucas yelled, and at that moment, he knew he’d lost. As soon as he started yelling, Royal started manipulating everything he said.

“Hate yourself?” Royal repeated. “I made you better. I showed you what you could be, encouraged you in everything. Didn’t I take the food you didn’t want? Didn’t I help you when you got tired? Didn’t I remind you what a good job you were doing?  Didn’t I remind you, every single day, how beautiful you were?” He sneered, looking Lucas up and down. “And now look at you. You’ve gotten fat.”

Eliott went cold. What kind of bastard were they dealing with? He looked at Lucas, seeing the colour drain from his face, the shake settling into his hands. His eyes began to tear up, and he stood, dropping Eliott’s hand, and ran from the room, arms wrapped around him.

“You’re a real piece of work,” Mika said, looking after Lucas. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“A few times,” Royal replied.

He stood and made to follow Lucas, but Eliott beat him to it. Eliott was a few steps away when he turned around, brought his fist back, and decked Royal in the jaw.

 

*

 

Eliott found Lucas in his room, curled up in his bed, sobbing into his pillow. He knelt at the side of the bed, not touching him, not knowing if he wanted to be touched.

“Lucas?”

“Leave me alone,” Lucas whispered. “Just go away.”

“Im not going anywhere, Lucas, I promise.” He shifted to sit cross legged and rested his arms on the bed, his chin sitting on top of his forearms “I love you, remember?”

Lucas let out a watery chuckle. “Oui, I remember.” He moved the duvet down and peaked out from under it. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not defending me.”

Eliott’s mind reeled. “What? You’re thanking me for letting that asshole say all those things to you?”

“Oui.” Lucas took a deep breath in, tucking the blanket beneath his arms. “He’s right. I always went back to him, because he always said the things I needed to hear. He always stood up for me, always made me feel like he wanted me. But I never felt safe with him, not after the first few months, anyway. He knew exactly what I was going through, he was the only one I talked to about everything. And he encouraged me. Never asked me why, never asked me to seek help. Told me that I was making myself beautiful.” He reached out and stroked Eliott’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “And I hate him for it. But if he hadn’t come here, if he hadn’t said those things to me, I would never have realised how awful he was for me. How much better you are than him. You make me feel safe, Eliott.”

Eliott was crying freely then, his hands moving to hold Lucas’ once more. He smiled weakly at Lucas. “All this before breakfast, huh?”

Lucas laughed, pushing at him gently. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Non,” Eliott said, shaking his head. “I have so much more to say, but I think that you deserve to talk. You don’t need me telling you what I think.”

“I love you so much.” Lucas stroked his cheek again, smiling. “I think… if he hadn’t come back to see me, if he didn’t search me out… I would have gone to find him. There’s just something about him. I never felt like I could be safe with him, but… he fed into all of my unhealthy habits, and sometimes it’s easier to stay bad than get better. He’s easy, is what I’m trying to say. He’s not safe, he’s easy.”

Eliott nodded.

“And you?” Lucas chuckled again. “You’re not easy, Eliott Demaury. But you’re safe. You are.”

“I punched him.”

Lucas laughed. “Good. He deserved it.”

“He really did.”


	11. Week 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super sorry about posting the wrong chapter in the wrong story! Maybe I shouldn't be writing two stories at the same time, huh? Anyway, I promise this is the right chapter!

It was late at night when Eliott finally asked Lucas what was wrong. He’d been acting strange all week, and Eliott was fed up with giving him space.

“Okay,” Eliott said, rolling over in bed to face his boyfriend. “What’s wrong?”

Lucas shook his head, not opening his mouth and not making eye contact.

“I won’t be mad,” Eliott said. “And I won’t laugh if you think it’s embarrassing.” Eliott took Lucas’ hands in his own, kissing his knuckles. 

“You might be sad,” Lucas whispered.

“Then I’ll deal with being sad.” Eliott reached up to stroke his cheek. “It’s something I’m used to.”

“No,” Lucas said. “You’re accustomed with being depressed, not sad. No one is used to being sad. No one likes to be sad. If they liked being sad, they wouldn’t be sad.”

“Lucas…”

“I’m leaving on Saturday.”

Eliott was quiet for a moment, a confused look spreading over his face. “What do you mean?”

“I came in a week earlier than you.” Lucas shrugged. “I’m leaving a week early. In Four days, to be exact.” His eyes started to water. “I don’t… I don’t want to be here anymore but I don’t want to leave.” He let Eliott pull him into a hug. “I don’t want to leave you. People have always left me or have always been flaky, but I’ve never left anyone, and I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You’re not leaving me.” Eliott kissed the top of his head. “Yes, physically, but not in any other way. We’re still dating, and after we get out, we can even be public about it. You’ll be moving in with Mika and Lisa until Mannon gets out, and you won’t have to deal with your parents shit anymore. And you know what?”

“What?”

“When I get out, I’m going to take you on the best date in the world.” He chuckled slightly, trying to fight off tears. “We’ll go to the cinema, see some shitty action movie, and make out in the back row. Then we’ll go and-”

“Get dinner,” Lucas said. “We’ll go to some greasy burger place and steal each other’s chips, and take stupid pictures in a photo booth.” His voice wavered. “And you won’t feel depressed or manic, and I won’t think about how everything I’m eating will just make me fat, because we’ll be having so much fun.”

Eliott’s nose started to sting, the warning sign of tears. “And then we’ll go back to your apartment and make love all night.”

Lucas wrapped his arms around Eliott’s neck. “I can’t wait.” He nudged his nose against Eliott’s, trying to smile through his tears. “And you’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”

With a chuckle, Eliott shook his head. “I can’t cook to save my life.”

Lucas laughed. “Okay, then… I’ll cook up breakfast.”

“That sounds good.”

They fell into a comfortable, if a little sad, silence. Lucas leaned in to kiss him once, but pulled away before it could become anything. 

“I just want to sleep tonight, okay?” Lucas asked.

“Of course,” Eliott said.

“Désolé.”

Eliott kissed his forehead. “You don’t have to be sorry for not wanting to have sex, Lucas. If I ever pressure you, I give you full permission to hit me.”

“I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

Eliott snorted out a laugh, ducking his head as not to laugh into Lucas’ face. “Okay. That sounds good.”

Lucas smiled. “You’re good, Eliott. I know that you’d never force yourself on me. I can feel it every time when we have sex, I could push you away at any time and you’d stop.”

Eliott smiled back. “I love you.”

“Love you, too. Now go to sleep.”

 

*

 

Group was awkward the next day. Everyone knew that Lucas was leaving now, and no one really knew what to say. Basile came in the same week, but he had to stay for at least two more weeks. Yann came in the very next day, so his was leaving on Sunday, and it was weird to think they were leaving almost together. Arthur didn’t know when he was going to leave, as his parents weren’t happy with any of the progress he and Dr. Quinn had made. Mannon had asked to stay for more time, so she was leaving on the same time as Eliott. Daphné had been caught sneaking food into her pockets at meal times, so she was ordered to stay for three more weeks, because she “obviously wasn’t taking her recovery seriously”. No one really knew how long Chloé had been there nor how long she was going to stay. Emma wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Eliott had one and a half more weeks, ten more days until he was going home.

“How are you guys feeling about leaving soon?” Dr. Quinn said.

Lucas shrugged, looking at his hands.

“Weird,” Yann said. “Like, I’m happy to be going home, and I feel a lot better than when I was admitted, but… I’ve gotten used to being here.”

Dr. Quinn nodded. “It’s normal to feel like that. Your whole life was uprooted and you were placed into something completely new, and once you’ve gotten used to it, once you’ve gotten a bit better, you have to go back to your life from before. Is there anything you guys are worried about?”

“My parents,”’ Yann said. “They love me, and they know that I’m still me, but… they’ve already acted differently towards me when they visited, so when I go home, I know they’re going to be weird about it there, too.”

“It’s a learning curve,” Dr. Quinn said. “They don’t know how to handle it or how to act, but they’ll learn. You just need to stick through and show them that you’re still their son. How do you think your sister is going to be?”

“She’ll be good,” Yann said, smiling. “She’s already making jokes about me being here, so I think we’ll be alright.”

Dr. Quinn smiled. He turned to Lucas. “And how about you, Lucas? I understand you’re moving into your own apartment?”

“I am.” Lucas smiled tightly. “Mannon helped me figure it out, so I’ll have a friend, when she gets out.”

Mannon smiled at him. “I’m looking forward to movie nights and getting wine drunk with you again.”

Lucas laughed. “I already have a date set up for when I’m out, too.”

Dr. Quinn raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.” Lucas smirked. “He’s handsome, kind of mysterious. We’re going to go to the movies.”

“Sound nice,” Eliott said, returning his smirk. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes.”

“Of course.”

 

*

 

Two days before Lucas left, Eliott got a blast from the past. There was a shrieking scream of excitement down the hall, and both boys jumped, staring at the door from their position in Eliott’s bed. They had been kissing, Lucas’ legs wrapped around Eliott’s waist, when the offending sound happened.

“I missed you so much!” It was Daphné, and they could hear her running down the hall. 

Another girls voice followed, one Eliott didn’t know but made Lucas chuckled and shake his head. The footsteps went running down the hall and paused a moment before they rushed to Eliott’s door. It was thrown open, and Daphné, Emma, Mannon, the girl Eliott didn’t know, and the blast from the past were all stood there, smiling.

“Lucas!” the unknown girl cried, running in and hugging him tightly. “I’ve missed you!”

He laughed, hugging her back, his legs still awkwardly wrapped around Eliott. “I missed you, too, Alex!”

Eliott was making eye contact with the other girl, Imane.

“Salut,” she said, smiling at him.

“Salut,” he replied, his throat suddenly dry.

“Oh,” Lucas said, being let go of by Alex. “Imane, this is Eliott. Eliott, this is Imane, my best science buddy.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re not best buddies.”

“We are.” Lucas smiled widely. “Best buds.”

Imane shook her head, still smiling. “Okay. Are we going to go hang out or what? I want to see this mural that you’ve been raving about in your phone calls, Daphné.”

The girls nodded, and Alex started pulling Lucas along. He laughed and stood, turning to Eliott. 

“You coming?” he asked, holding out his hand.

“Non,” Eliott said, smiling. “You have fun with your friends, I’ve got a book I want to start reading.”

Lucas frowned slightly, worried, but he nodded and let himself be dragged away. 

Eliott sighed and pulled a random book towards him, laying back in his bed and opening it, trying to concentrate despite the stirring of feelings in his head.

“Eliott?”

Looking up, Eliott saw Idriss standing in his doorway. His breath caught in his chest and his hands started to shake. Idriss stepped closer to the door, standing as if he didn’t know whether to come in or stay out. He looked around the room, his brows slightly furrowed.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, finally looking at Eliott again.

But Eliott still felt like he couldn’t speak.

Idriss shuffled in his spot. “There was a rumor at school that-”

Eliott stood, his feet planted solidly against the linoleum, and he pushed himself forward. Idriss stepped back slightly, letting Eliott pass him by, and watched as Eliott walked, seemingly, calmly down the hall.

 

*

 

The ward was in disarray. Lucas was panicking, his heart racing in his chest. He was wringing his hands, shaking from head to foot.

No one could find Eliott.

He wasn’t in his room, he wasn’t in the bathroom, the canteen, the art room, he didn’t seem to be anywhere.

Everyone was asking him, but he didn’t know.

No one was allowed to leave until Eliott was found, none of the guests, none of the staff whose shifts were over. All of the patients were confined to their rooms, not even allowed to go to the bathroom on their own.

Lucas had seen a tall, dark skinned guy talking to Dr. Quinn, who looked surprised and then slightly angry at him, but he let it go quickly. He knew that this guy had to be Imane’s older brother, but he’d never seen the guy before.

There was a hush outside his door, and Lucas snuck out, down the hall, and into Eliott’s room, standing with his back to the closed door. He looked around, wondering what had happened in the short time since he’d left. Eliott’s book lay open on his bed. Nothing was out of place, no single piece of furniture moved. Sighing, he left, turning to the right, towards the canteen, hoping that Eliott might be there.

The door next to the bathroom, usually locked and alarmed, caught Lucas’ attention when a slight breeze brushed against his cheek. He looked at it, frowning, wondering why it was open. Where did it even go? He stepped through, taking in the stairs up and down. The breeze was coming from up, though, and he took the steps slowly, pulling himself up by the railing. There was a sign on the wall, on the landing between floors.

_ Floor 6 _

_ Fire Exit _

_ Roof Access _

Swallowing against a dry throat, Lucas continued up until he got to the landing of the tenth floor. He sat down heavily, his legs shaking, his chest burning. There were still three floors to go, and he really didn’t know if he could make it up. He might be getting better, but he still wasn’t a healthy weight, and no matter how much he’d learned about healthy exercise, he wasn’t ready for a seven floor hike. Coughing slightly, he stood, taking the next flight of stairs slower than the last, the next even slower. He sat on the landing of the 12th floor, breathing in through his nose and out through his nose, his arms folded up behind his head, trying to keep his lungs open. He was sweaty and gross, he was cramping in all sorts of places he didn’t even know he could cramp, and he was hungry. They had been told they were going to get dinner in their rooms, and he knew that he had missed it. The thought didn’t make him happy, not like it had before. They must have also realised he was missing, too, and maybe they were calling the police, like they had the last time.

When he’d caught enough of his breath, Lucas stood and forced himself up the last flight of stairs, listening to the harsh wind through the roof door. He pushed it open further, really hoping that his theory was right and that Eliott was up here. The wind died down for just long enough for him to hear someone crying, and he walked further out on to the roof, searching.

He found Eliott curled up next to the air conditioning vents, his forehead resting on his knees.

“Eliott!” Lucas yelled over the noise.

He looked up, finding Lucas stood in front of him, and opened his arms. Lucas sat in front of him and pulled him close, feeling Eliott’s knees digging into his stomach. The sound of the machine behind them was deafening, and he didn’t know how Eliott could have stood to sit by it all evening.

“Let’s go inside!” Lucas yelled.

“I don’t want to go back down!” Eliott shouted back.

Lucas shook his head. “Just inside the door, out of the noise and the wind.”

Eliott let Lucas pull him to his feet, following him into the stairwell. Lucas closed the door behind them, sitting on the top step and patting the concrete beside him for to sit down.

“What’s going on?” Lucas asked, taking Eliott’s hand.

Eliott sniffled. “Is it time for another time?”

Lucas huffed out a laugh. “I think so, Eliott.”

With a sigh, Eliott hung his head. “I… thought I fell in love with a friend. I almost became obsessed with him. Dr. Quinn explained that it was a symptom, but at the time, it felt real. Not as real as us, but real enough. He was so nice to me, and I was so happy to finally have someone who was treating me like a normal person. My parents, Lucille, they all treated me like something was wrong with me, like I was fragile. I guess they were right.” Eliott felt Lucas’ hand tighten, as if he wanted to say something, but he kept himself from interrupting. “We were hanging out one day, and I tried to kiss him. I mean, I did kiss him, and he was kissing me back, but then the door opened and he pushed me away. He looked so scared, and he started screaming at me that it was against God, that I was going to hell. I ran away. All our friends saw what I’d done, all of our friends heard what he’d said to me. And none of them tried to reach out to me. I fell, hard. I started reading the Qu’ran, the bible, the Torah, anything I could get my hands on, and I posted all of it online. On Facebook, on twitter.” Eliott was crying again, hot tears burning tracks down his cheeks, his throat constricting. “I couldn’t take it, I was so overwhelmed and I felt like I was dying already, so why not?”

Lucas sniffed, and Eliott looked up, noticing the tears streaming down his face. He went to say something, but Lucas shook his head. “Keep going.”

“My grandmama was visiting,” Eliott said, his voice thick. “I snuck into her room and stole her arthritis medication, and I took £20 from my father’s wallet and I took off. I went to the corner store and bought a bottle of vodka. I went to the park and under the bridge and I took the pills, almost all of them, and down maybe half the bottle of vodka. I still don’t know who found me, or how I didn’t stay dead.” Eliott sighed, rubbing his face. “I kind of wish I had.”

“Non,” Lucas said. “Non, because if you did, then I never would have met you. You never would have met me.”

Eliott nodded, leaning in close and resting his head on Lucas’ shoulder. “I love you.”

“The restaurant.” Lucas rested his head on Eliott’s. “The friend who showed you the place you took me. It was this friend, right?”

“Oui.” Eliott sniffled again. “When I saw Idriss today, everything came flooding back, like I hadn’t been gone for ten weeks. Like I hadn’t met you and all of your friends. I was right back where I started, in that room with the boy I thought I loved, all of their stares burning into my skin.”

“You’re not.” Lucas kissed the top of his head. “You’re here. With me.”

 

*

 

They, of course, got into trouble. The police had been called, but they hadn’t even gotten to the hospital by the time that Eliott and Lucas got back down to the ward. Dr. Quinn confined them to their rooms, separately, for the next day, having nurses deliver their meals. They weren’t even allowed to go to group or therapy, stuck in their rooms, all alone. It was Lucas’ last full day, too, and Eliott couldn’t even see him.

When Dr. Quinn went into his room near the end of the day, he looked tired and mad. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked. “You snuck out to the roof to… to what? Chill with your boyfriend? I know that you guys are going to miss each other, but you can hang out in your rooms or in the recreation room, not on the fucking roof.”

Eliott frowned. “I left hours before Lucas. This isn’t about us wanting time alone.”

“Then what is it about?” Dr. Quinn sat down in Eliott’s desk chair, still scowling. “What the fuck is this about, Eliott, because I’m drawing a blank. One of your friends was here yesterday and he told me that you hadn’t had a good reaction to seeing him. Tell me what is going on, or I will report you to the board. I would hate to do it, but you are leaving me with no choice. You and Lucas are flaunting rules left and right, and-”

“I wanted to jump.”

Dr. Quinn was pulled up short. “What?”

“I saw Idriss and I was thrown right back into where I was before I came here. I was in the room with the boy I kissed, I was in my room posting all that shit on facebook, I was under the bridge with a bottle of vodka in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other.” Eliott was crying again, trying so desperately not to. “I was ashamed, I was terrified, I was alone. I have no friends, I have no one who understands what I went through, I have no one in my life who doesn’t treat me like I’m a stupid little glass doll. I wanted to jump.”

Dr. Quinn’s eyes were wide. “But…”

“But what? I’m on medication? That doesn’t mean that I won’t feel depressed, you told me yourself that the medication doesn’t get rid of the symptoms, it just lessens them. If I was ready to jump off a roof on medication, I would probably be pulling myself apart if I wasn’t.” He rubbed at his face, wiping away the tears. “Lucas found me and brought me back inside and made me talk, tell him what was going on. Made me feel not so alone.” He snorted humourlessly. “He did a hell of a lot better job than you’re doing right now.”

“If you’d have come to me, I could have helped.” Dr. Quinn was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “I’m so sorry, Eliott.”

“Are you going to report us?”

“Non. I’m not.”

 

*

 

Lucas left in the morning, after group. Mika and Lisa were there to pick him up, but so was his dad. Eliott didn’t understand how someone so broad and squat could father someone like Lucas. The height he understood, but Lucas must really take his looks from his mother. The man put up a fight when Lucas told him he was moving in with Mika and Lisa, but he gave up with a huff when Dr. Quinn told him it was part of the recovery period. Lucas’ father agreed to let him go home for his things, but he stopped talking to Lucas.

“What a prick,” Eliott said when Lucas walked over to him to say goodbye. 

Lucas chuckled. “Oui.” He tilted his chin up, asking for a kiss. When he got one, he smiled against Eliott’s lips. “I’ll see you soon, yeah? For our date?”

“Of course.” Eliott kissed him one more time, a smile on his face, hiding the sad ache in his chest quite well. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“I’ll see you in a week.”

Lucas’ eyes watered, a single tears escaping from his eye. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	12. Week 11

Eliott’s last week in the ward was weird, to say the least. Both Lucas and Yann were gone, leaving him with Basile and Arthur as the only other guys. They were now out numbered by the girls, four to three, though no one ever really remembered Chloé. She didn’t talk in group and she didn’t talk at mealtimes either. She was a silent presence that they all soon grew accustomed to.

Still awake passed curfew, Eliott was sat up in his bed, fingers tapping on the back of his book, trying to concentrate on whatever it was that he was reading. He had been reading the same page for fifteen goddamn minutes, his mind having always wondered a few lines down, when there was a sudden scream from down the hall. It was high pitched and terrified, flooding every nook and cranny of the ward, settling deep into his bones. Going to the door, Eliott looked out into the hallway, seeing other lights come on and other doors open. Daphné was covering her ears; Mannon was wide eyed with worry; Emma was looking down the hall towards the sound of screaming with an almost blank look on her face; Arthur was crouched on the ground, his hands tightly clamped between his thighs, his yelled curses and odd sentences adding to the noise of the hall; and Basile was looking around, confused, until he walked across to stand near Eliott.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Who is that?”

“I think it’s Chloé,” Eliott said. 

“The girl who was crushing on Lucas before you showed up?”

Eliott shrugged. “I guess.”

They watched as three orderlies ran into the room. There was more screaming and the sound of a scuffle, until Chloé was dragged from the room, thrashing, angry red lines running down her arms and her face. She had been scratching at herself, and some of them looked like they were starting to bleed. The orderlies carried her down the hall, in the direction of the solitary confinement room. Eliott had never had the pleasure of seeing the inside of one, but he’d heard from others who had. Emma said it was weird, being locked up, all on your own. 

“I hope she’s okay,” Basile said.

 

*

 

Chloé had been transferred to a different hospital. It was the news on Tuesday morning, a day and a half since they saw her get taken away. Dr.’s Vann and Quinn, all the nurses, and the orderlies were trying to keep it hushed, but word spread quickly. They were all quiet in group, and Eliott was really starting to miss Lucas. They would have talked about it together, wrapped up in one of their beds, bundled in their blankets and in each other. He wanted to see the other boy, hold his hand, talk to him into the small hours of the night. They talked every day over the phone, but it wasn’t the same.

“I mean, Mika is a bit annoying and it’s weird because we don’t really know each other,” Lucas said that night, his voice coming through like static over the line. “But I like it here. I like not hearing my parents fight all the time, and being so close to the school is going to be great when it starts again. And there’s this cute little patisserie nearby that does the most amazing baguettes.”

Eliott laughed. “It sounds like you’re settling in well.”

“I am.” Lucas cleared his throat. “Though, I think I’m getting a cold. Tell me about stuff there, is there anyone new?”

“Non, not yet. Dr. Quinn told us there was an intake in progress though, so the new person will be here tomorrow or the day after, depending on something that I wasn’t paying attention to.” When he heard Lucas chuckle, he smiled. “Chloé’s gone, though.”

“Oh, good! She never talked to anyone, but I’m glad to hear she got better.”

“She didn’t. She got transferred to another ward, somewhere in the country. Emma said she thinks Chloé’s schizophrenic.”

“Oh.”

There was an awkward silence in which the nurse near the phone tapped the watch on her wrist.

“So, Eliott,” Lucas was saying. “Do you know when you’re leaving?”

“Oui, Friday. At noon.”

“Good! Would… would it be cool if I came to meet you?”

“Of course!” Eliott smiled again, excitement rising in his chest. “My parents are coming to pick me up and take me to lunch, you can come, too.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

“Come on, my parents love you! And they really want to get to know you.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“But… you’ve already met them? My parents know you, it won’t be an awkward first meeting kind of lunch, it’ll be going out with your boyfriends family kind of awkward lunch.”

“Oui, but…” Lucas sighed. “Eliott, it’ll be a lunch.” He coughed a little. “In public, probably in a top scale restaurant where water costs £100 and your parents will want to know why I didn’t finish my meal and-”

“They won’t ask, Lucas,” Eliott reassured. “But why don’t we leave the family meal for another day?”

Another sigh from the end of the line, but this time it was relieved. “Merci, Eliott.”

The nurse tapped her watch again, looking stern.

“I’m being told I have to hang up,” Eliott said, shaking his head. “I’ll see you on Saturday?”

“Our date!” Lucas laughed. “If I haven’t hacked up a lung by then, I will see you on Saturday.”

“Wait, let me give you my cellphone number, then you can text me and I’ll have your number for when I get out?”

“That would be great!”

After telling Lucas his number, they said goodbye, slow and sappy and sad. Eliott didn’t want to say goodbye, but the nurse was walking over menacingly. He waved her away, saying a final, “I love you,” and hanging up the phone.

 

*

 

Wednesday was boring. A pipe had burst in the art room, so he couldn’t even go and paint away his frustrations. He hung out with Arthur and Basile in the group room, but they started bickering at one point and he just didn’t have the energy to deal with it. He went to hang out with Emma, Mannon, and Daphné, but they all stopped talking when he walked into the recreation room. He never really spent much time in that room, anyway, and it felt like going into his parents room at home. A place in his house that’s been there all along, but he was never really allowed to go in without permission. 

 

*

 

Eliott spent most of Thursday either packing or laying in bed, listlessly looking up at the ceiling. He was happy to be going home, really, but he couldn’t make himself feel it. The last week had been hard, and lonely. He never realised how much time he and Lucas spent together until Lucas wasn’t there. He felt like he was missing a limb. He could live without it, but he’d never be the same. 

Dr. Quinn came to fetch him for group, but when he saw Eliott, curled up in his bed and faced away from the door, he let him stay. Eliott kind of wished he hadn’t, kind of wished the older man had made him get up and out of bed, but he was also relieved when the door closed behind him. The intensity of everything was too overwhelming to deal with on its own; adding in group therapy might have been pushing it.

In a strange, morbid sense, he sometimes wished he had a physical mark to symbolize his attempted suicide. Something he could look down on when he felt like he couldn’t go on. Look at this, he’d say to himself if he had a scar. You survived through this, you can survive through anything. But he knew it wouldn’t work that way. He knew how much Lucas hated his scar, how much he hated the fact that he could never get away from what he’d tried to do. He knew it wouldn’t make him feel any better, if he had a scar. He would look on it and remember how far gone he was, how utterly sharp and raw he felt at a moment in his life he’d rather not think about. He told himself he was lucky, having no proof. Having nothing to show for his time in the hospital. It was a weird thing to think. He stroked the inside of his left wrist, over where he knew Lucas’ scar would be, and thought. Would it hurt?

Eliott made himself get out of bed and go to his individual meeting with Dr. Quinn.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Dr. Quinn said softly. He wasn’t smiling today, like he had been in their first meeting. He hadn’t been smiling at Eliott for a while, unless something Eliott did or said made him laugh. “I wouldn’t have made you.”

“I was thinking about killing myself.” Eliott brought his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. “Not like an eventuality, like I was going to do it, but like something that was there and wondering if it would hurt. Are you sure I should be going home?”

Dr. Quinn sighed. “Eliott, you’re depressed. I’m going to adjust your medications, which I’ve been meaning to do for a little bit, but I don’t think this is out of the ordinary. If you keep an open dialogue with your therapist, then you’ll be alright. Tell them what you’re thinking and feeling when you get like this.”

“My therapist?” Eliott asked. “I thought you were my therapist?”

“I am, for the duration of your stay here. You’ll be going to another therapist from here on out. I know it can be an adjustment, but I think it’ll be good for you. No… negative emotions.”

“You have negative emotions about me?”

“No, Eliott, of course I don’t.” Eliott could hear the truth in his voice. “But… after last week, you must have negative feelings towards me.”

Eliott shook his head. “No. I just want to forget about it.”

“You can’t, Eliott.” Dr. Quinn leaned back in his chair. “You can’t just forget about things. Good things and bad things are going to happen. You need to think about it when they happen, or you can’t learn and grow.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know if you have a therapist set up when you go home?”

“I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “My parents haven’t said anything if they set something up.”

“I can give them the name of a woman in town, she’s one of the top psychiatrists in the country, and she specializes in bipolarity.” Dr. Quinn wrote down her name. “I’m sorry about my attitude last week, Eliott.”

“I get it.”

“Thank you.”

 

*

 

Friday was...odd. He was still in bed when his parents go to the hospital, and Dr. Quinn woke him up. He just wanted to sink back into his bed and sleep for the next month, and only then would he consider getting out of bed. He pulled himself out of bed in a haze. His new medication, which he had started he night before, was sitting heavily in his skin, making his body feel lethargic. He finished packing his things and went to see his parents, a duffel bag with all of his things, 11 weeks worth of things, slung over his shoulder. His sister pulled him into a hug, and he held her close, burying his nose in her hair and breathing in a scent so uniquely her, like strawberry shampoo and brownies.

“He’s on new medication” he heard Dr. Quinn explain to his parents. “He’ll be out of it for a few days while he adjusts, but he’ll be fine. I’ve emailed you the name of a therapist in the city who I think Eliott would benefit from seeing.”

“Merci, Dr. Quinn,” his mother said, hugging him. “Merci beaucoup.”

The drive home was quiet. Eliott rested his head against the window, watching his city pass by in a rush of muted browns and greys. He was stunned to see how far away the hospital was from home. It took them almost an hour to get back. He thought that the hospital was in Paris, but he guessed he was wrong. 

Home was home, but it felt like someone had come in while he was gone and moved everything to the right by a few millimeters. Everything was in its place, but not exactly. One of the first things he noticed, too, was that his home smelled like home. He had never thought of it before, so used to it. He started to cry as soon as he stepped through the door, the sense of being at home and in a safe place where he was loved and taken care of so overwhelming that he couldn’t breathe.

“Oh, Eliott,” his father said, pulling him into a hug. “You’re alright. You’re home now.”

When his parents and his sister let him go, he picked up his duffel bag and walked to his room, the wooden floor creaking in all the familiar places. He pushed open his door and stepped in, stopping right over the threshold and looking around. Nothing had been changed, but he could see that his mother had come in and cleaned. His bed was made, his desk was neat. His phone was plugged in next to his bed, now probably, hopefully, fully charged. Dr. Quinn had given it to his parents when they’d visited him the first time, sending it home with them so that he’d never be tempted to steal it again. He set his bag down on his desk chair and flopped bodily onto his bed, sighing as he relaxed into the mattress. His eyes slid closed and he was drifting off to sleep, until his phone buzzed on his bedside table and he groaned. He pulled it towards him, frowning at the unknown number that was calling.

Pressing accept, he put the phone on speaker and let it fall to his bed.

“Salut?” he said.

“Salut, Eliott.”

Perking up, Eliott brought the phone close and turned it off speaker, bringing it to his ear. “Lucas?”

“Oui.” He giggled slightly. “I thought maybe you’d be home by now. How was your fancy lunch?”

“We didn’t go.” Eliott slumped back down onto his blankets. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” Lucas coughed violently, pulling the phone away so he wasn’t deafening Eliott. “Why didn’t you go to lunch?”

“I’m not feeling good today.”

“Oh.” Lucas sniffled. “Me neither, but I think for different reasons, huh?”

“Oui.”

With a sigh, Lucas said, “I don’t think I’ll be able to go tomorrow. I’ve been coughing all week long and it only seems to be getting worse. Would you mind a rain check?”

“I don’t mind a rain check for the sake of your health.” He smiled to himself. “Lucas, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Eliott.”

 

*

 

Eliott was startled awake the next day by a knock on his door.

“Hah?” he called, half awake and bleary.

“It’s Delphine!” she called through the door.

“Come in.”

She pushed open his door, shakily carrying a tray of food and a glass of water. “I brought you breakfast! Mama was going to do it, but she was worried about waking you. I took it when she wasn’t looking.”

Eliott snorted, sitting up in his bed and feeling slightly disgusted with himself, still dressed in yesterday's clothes. He hadn’t moved since his phone call with Lucas, which had gone on for almost three hours. He really hoped Lucas wasn’t paying his own phone bill, because that would be expensive. 

Delphine set the tray on his lap before scuttling onto his bed and sitting next to him, stealing a strip of bacon from his plate.

“Hey,” he laughed. “I thought this was my food.”

“It is, but not that piece.” She smiled at him. “Mama also wanted to make sure you took your medication, because you slept through the time to take your pills last night.”

“No, I took them.” He sipped in his orange juice and nibbled on his toast. “I’m not all that hungry right now, Delphy. Je suis désolé.”

“It’s okay.” She stole another piece of bacon from him. “Do you want to come play with me?”

“Not right now.” He reached over to stroke her messy hair. “But you can bring things in here to play with if you want.”

She nodded, hoping down from his bed. She was back shortly, holding four big books: _The Lord of the Rings_ , _Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_ , a cookbook, and, for some reason, the family copy of the Bible. She crawled up in his bed and sat next to him, pulling _The Lord of the Rings_ towards her and opening to the first page.

“What are you doing?” he asked, laying back down and getting comfortable. 

“I’m going to read to you,” she answered. “Mama always reads to me when I’m sad, so I’m going to read to you.”

He smiled, drifting back to sleep to the sound of his little sister stumbling over her words.

 

*

 

The next time he woke up, Eliott was confused as to where he was. He was in his bed, he was in his home, but Lucas was next to him, eyes closed and mouth slightly open, his nose chapped red from his cold. Reaching over, Eliott shook his shoulder gently, Lucas waking up almost instantly.

“Salut,” Lucas said, smiling.

“Salut,” Eliott replied. “How did you get my address?”

“I tried calling you about an hour ago, but instead of you, I got your mother. She asked me to come over, to see you. Well, to see if I could get you out of bed. I took the opportunity that presented itself.”

“And you’ve just been sleeping next to me for… how long?”

“Half an hour.”

Eliott snorted and rolled over, onto Lucas, feeling his body relax into the other boy. Lucas wrapped his arms around him, kissing the top of his head and holding him tightly.

“I’ve missed having you in my arms,” Lucas whispered. “Sleeping next to you, feeling you breathe.” He blushed. “Unless that sounds creepy, and then I haven’t.”

“I missed the sounds you make when you sleep,” Eliott said, moving so he and Lucas were facing each other, bodies still wrapped around the other. “I missed the way you breathed when you were just about to fall asleep. The feel of your hands in mine, the way your body fits against mine. I missed you, Lucas, so much. I didn’t know I could miss someone this much.”

Lucas leaned forward and kissed him, soft and undemanding. They held each other, feeling the other fall asleep, slipping into a comfort neither knew they were missing.

 

*

 

If Eliott woke up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, he didn’t say anything.


	13. To The End

Recovery is difficult.

Recovery is shitty and sometimes it feels so much easier to be in the familiar numbness of depression than to try to feel better. It feels so much better to be wrapped up in the hysteria and motion of mania than it feels to stick to a routine, avoiding things that all your friends are doing because you know it’ll trigger something. It’s easy to fall into a place where you don’t want to take your medication, where you resent that you have to.

Eliott went off his meds twice before he turned 18. He had gotten into a shouting match with Lucas during a depressive episode, one that managed to sneak through his barrier of lithium, and he had flushed them all down the toilet. He went back on them each time because he became so depressed he wanted to die the first time, and the second time because he got so manic that he didn’t care about anything going on around him, hyper fixated on something he couldn’t even remember and he almost got hit my a car. Lucas had nearly had a heart attack when the car almost hit Eliott, and Eliott just stared after it.

“I need to get back on my meds,” he said.

“Yeah.”

Eliott stayed on his meds this time, though there were times when he was tempted to throw them away and live the way his brain chemistry wanted him to. He talked about it with Lucas and with his new therapist. He liked her.

Lucas relapsed three times by the time he was 22. The first two times weren’t as bad as when he was sent to the hospital. He stopped eating breakfast and lunch, counted calories, did too much exercise. Eliott started to make him breakfast in the morning before classes at the university they both went to, starting packing him lunches. Lucas smiled and ate, talking to his therapist and talking to Eliott. 

The worst, the last time he relapsed, was right before he graduated from university. It had been going on for a while, but he didn’t show it. The night Eliott found out, he had taken Lucas out on a date, to a comfy restaurant and to a carnival. They stuffed themselves on candy floss and popcorn, laughing together and going on rides. They went home and tumbled into bed, kissing and holding and making love. Eliott woke up hours later to the sound of retching. Standing up, he almost ran to the bathroom, the door cracked open, and he saw Lucas bent over the toilet, elbows resting on the seat, fingers in his mouth, making himself vomit.

“Lucas…” Eliott said, pushing open the door and walking in.

He sat next to Lucas, closing the lid of the toilet, and pulled the smaller boy towards him. His shoulders were bony, his wrists thin. How had he not noticed? Lucas had started to cry, his body shaking, gulping great breaths of air and just letting himself be held.

They got better together. They had their ups and downs together. They recovered together, holding each others hands and smiling against each others mouths. 

They were together.

To the end.


End file.
